Tales from the Fringe II: Bittersweet Reunion
by GandFindsman
Summary: The Sequel to 'Relentless Entanglements.' Captain Marikk and the crew arrive at Vaynai for some much needed rest and repairs when an old flame from his past reappears, meaning trouble can't be far behind...
1. Chapter 1

Like a long-awaited prize, the almost crystalline blue planet Vaynai seemed to beckon them on as it appeared in the distance and steadily began to grow in size. Kicking up his feet onto the control console and leaning in his chair with his arms behind his head, Captain Marikk Danar smiled, almost feeling the warm ocean breeze on his face already as he watched their approach to the oceanic planet. Vaynai was covered mostly by shallow seas and boasted only one permanent settlement at the spaceport in the islands of the Vaynai archipelago. It would be there, of course, they would be traveling to, or, more specifically the place called Streysel Island, according to their letter of recommendation from the repair master Jo'eno Finn at the Chandrilla space station. It had been a favor to Dormanin that he had given them these coordinates, as a sign of goodwill since, at the moment, their coffers were a little too empty to afford his prices. Thus they were to go to an establishment owned by a Nautolan fellow by the name of Het Kibo, Finn's friend and associate, to hopefully get their ship up and fully repaired once more.

"Ahhh, after all we've been through, an ocean-side visit should be quite relaxing," Marikk reveled, awash in a peaceful spirit.

The Quarren Sillek turned in his chair to the Captain's right and stared out at the planet, an unusual twinkle in his eyes as he did. "This shall be an enjoyable change of pace from bounty hunters and high speed chases. It has been far too long since I have visited the ocean of any world, at least in a leisurely sense."

"I just hope the seafood is good," another voice, Craeldo, piped; joined soon after by the chuckles of his crewmates.

Within minutes, the main viewport was awash with nothing but clear water and pure white clouds as over the ship's comm system, something began to buzz through.

"_Welcome to Vaynai. Incoming vessels must first descend to an altitude of no more than fifty meters at least twenty kilometers from the archipelago,"_ began a cool feminine voice, clearly an automated warning from the local spaceport authorities. _"At this point ship may approach from the north or south vectors. Do not exceed the fifty-meter altitude limit. If you travel above fifty meters, the local aristocracy may exercise its right to secure airspace. Enjoy your stay on Vaynai, and clear skies."_

Abras, Sillek and the Captain each looked at each other as the message faded into waves of static, the former of whom had a smirk on his face. "Well, at least they gave us a warning."

"Oh yeah. I'd hate to get us in trouble this early in the game." Sitting upright once more in his seat, Marikk began to make the appropriate course corrections, leaned back his head and watched as the waves grew closer. "Hopefully, though, we can go the whole visit without much trouble at all. That, too, would be a nice change of pace."

* * *

A motley lot of beings and droids scuttled about the stone-embedded repair bay as they went about their duties of cleaning, arranging and preparing the chamber for the work ahead. At the entrance of the great cavern, overlooking the cliffside and the crashing white waves below, the leader of the group, an aged Nautolan, stood stalwart, gray-green tendrils drawn back behind his head by a band and wearing a loose, buttoned tan vest, arms bare, and baggy tan pants bound at the waist by his utility belt. All was surprising clean, considering his line of work.

"Come on you lot!" Het Kibo barked, still keeping his gleaming ebony eyes staring out over the cliff. "These friends, or whatever they are, of Jo'eno's should be arriving soon, by my estimation. I want this bay _above_ peak condition when they get here." Arms crossed over his stomach, he spit over the edge and into the water below, this time muttering under his breath. "If this ship is anything like Joey told me, I'm going to make a mint."

As he spun around on heel, he was surprised to see how much his crew had gotten everything done even though they had only gotten to work at the last moment. The Coolant and grease spills had been cleaned up from the floor plating and everything was looking generally tidy. A toothy grin crossed his amphibian face as he strode slowly down the bay's center.

To his far left, there was a clatter of metal that rang out over the noise, followed soon by the flaring of an alien language and various mechanical squeaks and beeps. Glancing over quickly, Kibo found a porcine Ugnaught flailing his arms about in the air as he went on a tirade as a Treadwell droid angrily rammed repeatedly into its foot and squeaked, all this over a stack of tools that had been knocked to the ground.

"Hey you two!" The Nautolan growled, his brow descending heavily upon his eyes. "Stop acting like a pair of half-witted squid farmers and get that cleaned up!"

Bowing and chirping in submission, the two went busily to work picking up after themselves when something else, a tug at the back of his vest, vied for his attention. Upon inspection, the bay master found it to be his Aleena assistant, Tyn Bostell.

"Um, sir…Master Kibo, sir!"

Het raised an eyebrow curiously. "Yeeees? What is it? What do you want?"

"Look, sir!" Hopping in excitement, the little blue reptilian creature pointed out the bay doors to a small speck in the distance, looking to be flying straight for them.

"Hurry it up, people! They're almost here!"

Slowly, over the matter of a few minutes, it drew closer and grew in size. Their destination was assured. Soon, what had formerly been a speck now grew into the profile of an old Republic diplomatic cruiser.

As it drew within a few hundred meters, Het dashed about giving last minute orders and getting his workers cleared from the main floor. When at last the old ship entered into the stone and durasteel confines of the repair bay, its engines roaring and the bulk of it hull, pits, blast mark and gaping wounds now visible upon it, moaning and shaking, the Nautolan, his Aleena assistant and the rest of the moderately-sized repair crew stood at attention just in front of the entranceway to the business's administrative offices.

The ship's mechanical workings whirred as it came to a rest and its landing ramp dropped hard to the ground in a spray of steam.

"My word, Jo'eno wasn't kidding," whispered the manager to Tyn. "This old barge looks about done for." Two figures appeared through the mist veil at the top of the ramp soon after, the lead rather imposing in size. Their approach snapped him to attention, Kibo extended both arms out and put on a beaming smile as he stepped forwards towards them, now revealed as a rather imposing Vurk and his white LE repair droid. "Welcome to Vaynai, friends! I am Het Kibo, owner of this establishment. I assume that you are the persons of whom I was recommended by Master Jo'eno Finn of Chandrilla Station?"

"We are indeed the same," echoed the translator on the Vurk's belt in a resonating bass as he reached out and shook Kibo's hand, slightly crushing it under the pressure. "I am Dormanin Vebis, chief engineer aboard the _Nova Hound_, and this is my assistant, Leda."

In an odd display, it looked almost like the droid curtsied at the mention of its name, and slightly more peculiarly, especially for a repair droid, it spoke with a feminine tone. "It is a pleasure, sir."

"Now then, Mister Kibo, if it is possible, I would like to begin repairs as soon as possible. Also, if it is not too much trouble, I would like to assist."

Nursing his hand, the Nautolan tried to smile again. "Of course, of course. As your fine craft's engineer, it would be a pleasure to have your knowledge of the ol' girl readily available as we work." Pausing, he motioned towards the administration offices with his good hand. "First, however, there's the small task of the paperwork that still must be dealt with. If you have a financial advisor available, this may be the time…"

"No, no… that will be fine," Dorm quickly interjected. "We discussed a few things before I disembarked, so I know exactly what rates we would be willing to pay."

"Very well then, if you'll just follow me, we'll get this out of the way quickly and then set to work." Waving his crew out of the way, Het made his way past, with Dorm and Leda closely in tow, and guided them on to his office to begin the proceedings.

* * *

The bay and the inside of the _Nova Hound_ itself was alive with the sound of repair work in all its various forms, and all of it was getting too much for the Captain's nerves. The rattling and grinding and whirring of it all even resounded within what he had hoped would have been the quiet solace of his own quarters, but there was no such luck finding relief _anywhere_ on the ship much less there. Slipping his jacket on over his shoulders, Marikk scrabbled quickly down the landing ramp, nearly tripping over a green R2 unit who was rolling up to go to work on the ship's systems. He curled his lip and grumbled under his breath as he regained his balance and watched the droid continue on its way.

At the bottom of the ramp, he paused and clamped a hand over his chin. He _had_ decided to get out before the noise drove him up the wall, yes, but the thing was that he never decided _where_ he was gonna go. It was then, though, that a sweet scent caught his attention; definitely not something you would find in a repair shop. Marikk turned quickly to follow the aroma and caught a glimpse of a modified Ubrikkian barge docked at the entrance of Kibo's bay and on board, sitting at some café tables on the top deck, some of his crew. Crossing the bridge connecting the barge and the Cliffside, he made his way over to take a seat with Obbeo, Sillek and Loon, all of whom were already dining.

"It is not bad for food made on a old barge," he heard the Ortolan chef Obbeo commented to the others as he slurped up a few strands of Rodian rygg-noodles, "but this is nothing compared to my fine cuisine. I would have changed the spices just slightly to give a bolder taste."

Marikk smirked, glancing over each of their dishes. "Obbeo, you would have something to say about the food if it was prepared by the personal chef of the Emperor himself."

"Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far…"

"Yes, you would, Ortolan. Don't deny it," Loon quipped, picking over his dish.

Obbeo reared back to punch the half-Neimoidian accountant, but the Captain quickly intervened and calmed them both down. "Now, now, let's try to keep the fights at a minimum, shall we? Anyway, we have more important things to take care of. By the way, is everything taken care of? The paperwork and such I mean."

"You'll have to ask Dormanin about that. He didn't want me to come along this time because he thought I'd be too much of a distraction or cause a commotion or some foolishness like that." There was an obvious sign of annoyance of Loon's face as he said that. "However, I was met by the customs official on my way over and made sure to take care of the docking fees, passenger tax, ect. Blood-suckers, those customs people. All they want is _more_ credits."

"Yeah, and we don't know anyone like that," Obbeo muttered under his breath. "Now do we?"

Captain Marikk and Loon both shot him glances, which caused him to be put in his place somewhat. Of course, while the Captain did it for mediatory purposes, Loon's was merely a glare of frustration. "Well, anyone care to fill me in on this little floating restaurant?"

As was par for the course, Sillek sat on the right side of the table and sipped his tea slowly from the glass before looking over to Marikk. "It is called Uncle Nyyv's Floating Eatery. It's a local catering business run by that fellow over there." With one long finger, he pointed over toward a bar that sat beside the entrance to the lower deck and the kitchen and the Sullustan that stood behind it, wiping out a drinking glass. "That, logically, in Nyyv, the owner of the establishment. They take this barge to the local docks where ships have just landed in an attempt to feed hungry incoming crews, and they seem to be doing quite well for themselves at that, or so Nyyv boasts."

"Chatty, is he?"

The Quarren swordsman let off a slight grin, knowing at what he was implying. "Indeed, he is quite amiable, and well knowledgeable of the area. And this knowledge, I might add, he is more that willing to pass out."

"Well then," Marikk commented, smirking as he stood from his seat. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I think I'll sidle up to the bar for a bit."

A saunter in his step and a grin on his face, the Captain made his was casually across the deck, glancing at other patrons as he passed before finally coming to the bar and leaning backwards against it. The Sullustan behind it looked up cheerfully and set down his glass and rag.

"Howdy, stranger," he chimed. "Welcome to Uncle Nyyv's Floating Eatery. I'm Uncle Nyyv. What can I get for ya?"

"Have anything strong?"

"Drinks, ya mean? Nope, sorry. Don't sell the stuff. I try to keep my customers sober and orderly, as best as I can control. Might I suggest a glass of Fizzyglug, Sea Dew or Ragnook Spring Water?"

"Hmm, well since we're on Vaynai, give me a Sea Dew."

"Excellent choice, sir." Nyyv bent down and reached into a refrigeration unit hidden underneath the counter, removing a pitcher and pouring out a nice tall glass of the beverage before replacing the pitcher and sliding the glass to Marikk. "There ya' go. I was quite surprised your Quarren friend there didn't have a glass since it _is_ made by his people. First time I've seen a tea-drinking Quarren before."

"Yeah, well Sillek's not your average Quarren. Anyway, bottom's up, my good man." Glass in hand, Marikk lifted it in salute to Nyyv and took a gulp of it, a smile on his face as he glanced back over his shoulder again. "Hey, not bad."

"Thank you kindly. I try to get only the best. Squeezed by real Quarrens."

He smirked, glancing up at the darker orange awning overtop of the dining area. "And the best kind of Quarren _is_ the real kind, after all." Marikk stopped, placed his glass on the counter, and then turned around and leaned forward on his elbows, locking eyes with the Sullustan. "Say, do you know much about the area?"

"Do I know much about the area? My friend, if you want information, I'm your man. I've traveled to every side of Streysel Island and the surrounding network."

"So… know any places where a guy can get some work?"

Nyyv raised an eyebrow curiously. "Work? I'm afraid you're gonna have to be a little more specific. What kind of work do you do?"

"Ship-for-hire, mercenary work, some… 'quiet' importing exporting, if you get my drift."

"Ahhh, yes yes, I see." The Sullustan nodded with each word, at the same time picking up his glass and beginning to clean it once more. "I would say then the man you want to see is Onoron Fil'vye, owner of Fil'vye Tansport. His business range is quite large, reaching as far as The Corporate Sector and Hutt space. I would suggest making a visit to their headquarters on the other side of the island. Speak to one of his trade representatives and, if they're impressed with your credentials, maybe they'll give ya a chance."

"Can't I talk to Fil'vye himself?"

"Nope, not initially I'm afraid, and possibly not at all. Only a select few are invited Fil'vye's his penthouse office for a personal meeting." Nyyv grinned and puffed out his chest. "I've been privileged enough to visit with him a time or two."

"Well then, perhaps I will have to look into that." Taking his glass, Marikk chugged the remaining Sea Dew, placed it on the counter and waved as he made his way off. "Hey, thanks for your help, Uncle Nyyv. Take care."

"Whoah, wait a minute!" he cried in a confused and slightly aggravated tone. "You forgot to pay for your drink!"

Looking back briefly as he crossed the bridge, Marikk again smirked and then pointed towards the table where his crew sat, a maneuver which brought an irritated glare to Loon's face. "Just put it on their bill. They're good for it."

As cries of protest echoed out from both Obbeo and Loon, the Captain could only chuckle under his breath as he left the barge and went to attend to his business on the island. He'd probably reimburse them when he got back… maybe.

* * *

The midday sun was wonderfully warm upon Craeldo's navy blue skin as he walked along the avenue, Shalla and Abras just slightly behind him, as they wandered the Promenade, the commercial hub of the island that hosted some of its most upscale, and legal, businesses. A pleased sigh escaped the Rodian's lips as he looked up into the clear blue sky and watched a few sea birds soar through the air with their cawing voices.

"Well, this is most relaxing indeed," he commented to his two companions in a pleasant tone. Oddly, though, there was no response. For curiosity's sake, Crae decided to try again. "Such nice weather. Such a wonderful atmosphere. I guess we should be glad things didn't work out quite as planned on Chandrilla."

Again, there was not a sound. Glancing back, he watched as the Brentaal native, right arm still in its sling, walked hand in hand with the young Twi'lek medic, both of their mouths going on for what seemed forever, but neither seeming to take any notice to him. "My my… young love."

The three wandered on, all the while Craeldo was found in silence, which was becoming increasingly annoying to the normally chatty being. He would have liked to have had some sort of conversation, not just walking around with them like a mute, so he tried again to gauge their perception of the outside world. "Boy, I could sure go for a drink!"

Nothing.

"Oh look, aren't sea birds beautiful to watch?"

Likewise.

"Oh dear, one of them has poked my eye out and is flying away with it now."

The same.

"My word. My skin is turning orange and I'm starting to glow, besides the fact that I'm also now turning into a humanoid frog-dog."

That was the last straw. The Rodian stopped in his tracks and turned around just in time to see the two of them nearly walk into him. When finally they realized what was going on in front of them, they both were framed by rather puzzled looks as the stopped suddenly in their tracks.

"Crae?" Shalla finally spoke, inquiring to the situation. "What's wrong?"

"Listen you guys, I think I'm gonna go have a look around myself and leave you two to be alone, alright? I'll see ya both later."

Still puzzled, the two watched as Craeldo wandered off into one of the nearby shops, the suddenness of his announcement a complete shock. "Well, what was that about?"

Abras shrugged. "Not a clue."

"Ahh, it is indeed young love," muttered Craeldo. "For, as they say, 'Love is Blind, but apparently, though, it's also deaf." Hands in his pockets, he made his way towards one of the clothing shops off to the side of the pathway, hidden under the shade of the canopy that covered the storefronts and half of the avenue. Glancing back, he watched as the pair continued on as they had before, and then shook his head and chuckled under his breath as he made his way inside.

* * *

Dust was heavy in the air of the old antique shop, and if that alone was a sign of the age of the items scattered about within, then these were truly ancient. Marikk waved his hand about in the air in front of his face and coughed, trying to do away with any particles floating around him in the air as he looked over the various artifacts, antiques and curios from an assortment of different worlds and eras. He had attempted already to speak with someone at the Fil'vye Transport headquarters, but by having seen the packed crowd within in the main foyer and by the suggestion by the one representative he had gotten to speak with briefly, it was decided that it would be best if he returned later in the afternoon when the crowds had died down. So, with a few hours free time on his hands, the Captain decided to sightsee around the island.

Reaching up onto the top shelf of the display closest to the back wall of the store, he withdrew a tribal war mask made out in the design of some kind of vicious animal and began to examine it with curiosity. With a delicate touch, Marikk ran his fingers over the mask's surface and felt the smoothness of the wood from which it was carved, becoming so engrossed in it that when a bell chimed at the front door, signifying someone's entrance into the store, he jumped and nearly dropped the mask to the ground. He looked up towards the small foyer that marked the entranceway. Unable to make out the new visitor who had entered, as the room was poorly lit, he instead glanced momentarily at the elderly human shopkeeper at the front counter beside the door, seeing no reaction from him except a gentle rocking as he slept. From his own reaction to the entrance chime, he decided it was best to put the war mask back on its shelf and continue to walk around the shop.

As he continued on into the next row of items in the shoulder high case, a sweet perfume wafted through the air from the newcomer, still not completely visible but even this little clue peaked the Duro's interest. Though he continued to study the antiques he saw with interest, his eyes kept jumping up to the woman, more details becoming visible as he nonchalantly tried to make his way towards her, yet trying to avoid eye contact. Bit by bit, her appearance began to reveal itself to him. She was a relatively young woman from what he could tell, very fit in her physique but not overly muscular, simply well tone, and wearing a light blue sleeveless dress that ended about mid-thigh and long white boots that hugged her lower legs all the way up to her knees. Most curiously, though, through the shadows and the dust, he noticed that her skin was a light magenta color with dark violet locks upon her head that were cut short around her head, save for some length to about the middle of the back of her neck and what he thought might be rather prominent bangs, though he had yet to see her face. A most exciting turn of events… she was a Zeltron.

Marikk grinned widely at this turn of events, quickly checked over and straightened his clothes, doing the best he could to wipe off any grime despite his environment, and then sucked in his gut for an extra precaution, even though he was relatively well trim in that area, and swaggered his way over to where she stood. Slowly, he sidled up beside her, now only pretending to be looking at the antiques, and joined her in admiring a marble bust of a Snivvian poet.

"Well, that's quite a fine piece of work," he spoke at last with a smooth tone to his words as he let a lopsided smirk onto his face, eyes still on the sculpture. When at last, he did look over at her and caught his first glimpse of her face, his façade shattered and his jaw dropped, not for her appearance, though she was indeed quite beautiful, but because he actually _knew_ her!

The young woman wrinkled her nose and shook her head slowly in reply. "Ehhh, it's not really that good. I've seen much better, but then again, you're not gonna get museum quality work in an old shop like this." Turning away from it, she nearly walked into Marikk and, as the two locked eyes, hers began to widen greatly as an ecstatic grin appeared upon her visage. Slowly at first, but then picking up speed and volume, she began to laugh with glee and enthusiastically wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly.

"Mare darling!" she exclaimed to the still stunned Duro.

It took a few seconds, but when the reality of the situation finally took grasp, he too joined in on her joyful bout of laughter, hugging her firmly ,with the same youthful enthusiasm, around the waist and took her out to arms length and looked the young Zeltron over before pulling her back in. "By the very stars, Naemi! It's you!"

"Indeed it is, you ol' lady-killer! It is so good to see you!" Resting a hand on her hip, she stepped back from him as the released from their embrace, but the same smile remained on her face. "What brings you to Vaynai?"

"My ship ran into some trouble and needed repairs, so we brought her here to get worked on."

"You still don't have that old Barloz-class freighter, do ya?"

Marikk shook his head vigorously, "No no no, traded it in, so to speak, for a Consular-class Cruiser."

"A diplomatic cruiser!? How in the world are you piloting that by yourself? I mean, I know you're a great pilot and all, but still…"

"Oh duh, you don't know about the…" he slapped his forehead and grimaced at his own stupidity for not using common sense. "Of course you wouldn't know. It's been about six years since we've seen each other. Anyway, roughly two and a half years ago, after having worked as a courier pilot for a year and a half ever since our last adventure together, I decided to start my own mercenary group, with the help of my cousin and some old contacts I made during my years in the underworld to try and bring in a bitmore money and start a new, more independent life for myself. With the credits from the sale of my old Barloz and an investment from my cousin, we were able to purchase the Consular cruiser and retrofit it for our needs, thus forming Marikk's Mercs. There's about eight of us in all, not counting an annoying repair droid owned by my chief mechanic."

"My my, sounds like someone's made out quite well for themselves."

Lowering his gaze, the Duro tried to keep a positive look on his face. "Eh, it has its good moments and its bad moments, but I have no regrets. I enjoy this life of mine, for all its peril." He paused and shook his head. "But, enough of my ramblings. What about you Naemi girl? What are you up to? What scheme brings you to Vaynai?"

"Scheme? Why I don't have the foggiest idea what you mean, Mare." A sly grin appeared at those words as she played coy with him as she had many a times before. "Can't a girl just visit a beautiful planet like Vaynai without an ulterior motive?"

"Normally, yes, but with a thief like you, dear Nae…" Marikk smirked knowingly. "I haven't known you for nearly ten years not to know you don't usually go somewhere without a purpose. There's something on this island you're after, and I doubt it's in this old shop."

"You know me all too well." Just then, a small rhythmic beep began to emanate from her wrist, more specifically her chronometer. Lifting it up, she looked at it intently for several seconds and then pressed down on a button on its side. "As much as I'm loving our little reunion, Mare, I gotta go, but let's not let this be the end. Meet me this evening around sundown on docking platform 420. We can catch up some more then and perhaps have a bite by the sea. Until then." As she turned to leave, she paused in step about half way around and blew him a quick kiss and a wink before heading off out of the shop.

Marikk just stood there, thinking… staring… still grinning and feeling his heart skip a beat in his chest. It had been far too long, but now Naemi Alto was back in his life. For better or for worse. Either way, he was still happy.


	2. Chapter 2

They say that the deeper you go into the caverns within the islands of the Vaynai Archipelago, the seedier and more dangerous the crowds become. This was exactly what Craeldo was counting on.

After having parted company with Shalla and Abras, he wandered for a few hours through the shops and a few tapcafes along the Promenade and, while they were all fine establishments, there was something they lacked. There were few there willing to talk, a major deficiency for one trying to dig up some information… any information on the locals or items of interest. That was his job and indeed his passion, to find out what he could for either his personal use or for the use of the highest bidder. So there was nowhere to go but down.

To say that Dominik's Alehouse was typical would have been an understatement. It looked a hundred other smoke-filled, jizz-wailing cantinas across the galaxy, but unlike the clean, upscale establishments on the Promenade, this was the type of environment where his kind would most likely be found.

Strolling through the front entryway, Crae scanned the room for anything interesting. Assorted alien barflies, check. Surly looking bartender, check. Overworked, underpaid band, check. Most of the beings around the room were either in a daze, drunken beyond comprehension, or passed out all together, but there was one group, gathered around a circular durasteel table towards the back right corner of the alehouse, that looked exactly like the ones he had been searching for. They were a group of mostly older beings, having looked like they hadn't bathed in months, but despite all this, they appeared to be the most promising group in the room as they were all deep in conversation, and a boisterous conversation at that, as they drank from their mugs. Almost as if it were divine providence, there was one empty seat at the table.

The Rodian passed through one acrid plume of smoke on his way to the main counter, causing him to cough as it began to seep into and sting his lungs, and then placed an order to the bartender for a Corellian Ale. It wasn't his usual drink, but he wanted to fit in to the group as much as possible. Placing down the appropriate amount of credits and taking up his mug, giving a curt nod to the barkeep as he did, he quickly made his way over to the table and slid into the empty seat as their conversation, but as soon as he did all eyes were on him.

"'Ello, what 'ave we 'ere," one of the three older looking humans among the crowd of eight grumbled.

"Pardon me, gents," Craeldo began, taking a big swig from his mug in imitation of the others. "I could help but notice that you seemed to be the only source of lively conversation in this place. Hope ya don't mind if I join in."

"Eh, do as you will," commented a Dug in the seat across from him in its native language.

"We're only ones in this dump who can hold their liquor," a crusty Aqualish grunted, to the intoxicated laughs and grumbles of approval from his colleagues.

Crae merely raised an eyebrow and forced a smile, taking another drink of the ale.

"Anyway, as I was sayin'…" This time, it was another of the humans who spoke up, pausing briefly to chug his drink and let out a loud belch, also to the approval of the others. "It seems ol' Memm had another break-in the other week."

"Eh, you don't say? Fools just keep comin'. What they do with this one?"

"Memm let the authorities take this one. 'e'll probably be exiled to the Boiling Sea or somet'in."

"Excuse me for interrupting…" To the Rodian's chagrin, every heavy-eyed being paused and locked eyes on him again. "But who is this Memm person you're talking about?"

The Dug barked a laugh. "Eh, we got a freshie outlander here!"

"You mean you don't know who Gallo Memm is?" the second of the humans inquired, looking quite peculiar in his puzzled state.

"No, I'm afraid I don't."

"Well then, listen up, freshie, and I'll fill ya' in on some things. Gallo Memm is the Nimbanel noble who owns the topside estate on Streysel Island. As you may know, the closer to the surface and the higher up the island you go, the more prestigious the person, and ol' Memm is at the top of the food chain here."

"Memm is a big time collector of rare and ancient artifacts, so he is often frequented by thieves and the like seeking somethin' they can call there own." It was the Aqualish who spoke this time. "And, out of necessity, he has established a very sophisticated security system up there, as well as having a crack team of Weequay body guards patrollin' the estate. If they catch someone snoopin' about, the guards will either kill them themselves, or hand them over to the authorities for trial. The nobles of Vaynai are notorious for wanting absolute privacy, and the local laws reflect it. Severe repercussions can come."

The third human, who had been mostly quiet thus far, finally looked up and wiped a mustache of foam from his upper lip. "I'll add one t'ing to that, though. There has been an occasion where, if Memm is well enough impressed, he'll offer them employment to help better protect his preciouses, as long as they return anything they took."

Craeldo's eyes were aglow, partly from his infatuation and partly from on-coming intoxication, as he took in every precious bit of info. "So how do these people usually break into the Memm estate?"

"Dere are several ways," the first man droned, "all of which are ripe with failure. One way is t' try and scale the cliff, but then ya gotta watch out for guards walkin' the pathway along the perimeter of the island. Then there's an airborne or vehicular attack, but then ya got the turbolaser batteries to deal with and the fact that the guards could hear ya comin' up the cliff. One of the most popular ways, though, is t' impersonate one of the pilgrims going to the Temple of Kooroo topside."

"The Temple of Kooroo?"

"Aye. An old stone temple that predated the establishment of his estate. Being a collector of the ancient, Memm didn't want t' tear it down, so he allows the pilgrims to continue to come and pray or whatever it is they do. This way, though, isn't fool proof 'cause besides having to be patted down and checked by the guards at the turbolift to the estate, you are then escorted to the temple once you get up there, which is itself under guard by the Weequay, so if you wanted t' do anythin', you'd have to find a way out without being noticed."

"You're not thinkin' of pulling something, are ya freshie?" joked a Pacithhip seated beside him.

"No no no! Not at all! I was just curious for more information is all."

"Well, it's not like we care if you do or not. It's your own dumb fault if you're fool enough to try and attempt it."

A smile on his face, Crae leaned back in his chair, hands cupped behind his head. "Yeah, well, I'm only interested in information, not ancient artifacts. Besides, I've grown quite accustomed to living."

"A wise move, freshie."

Almost in unison, all of those assembled paused and took an ample drink of their Corellian Ales, then wiping dirty faces on their shirt sleeves before continuing on.

"Now den, where was I…"

-

The sky was awash in a sea of color as the evening sun began to sink beneath the distant horizon of the mirrored sea; two silhouettes stood in contrast against it all as they made their way across the bridge to an alabaster tower which rose from that same water. The two cousins, Marikk and Loon, were dressed in their usual garb, an outfit of black and blue for the former and elaborately decorated red and green robes for the latter, though all of this now presented in a rather pristine condition, but Loon had also added to his outfit an official Financial Advisor's collar, a status symbol of the Neimoidian people which he wore only on special business occasions. They both walked with bodies straight and postures firm as they approached the headquarters of Fil'vye Transport. Neither said a word, this out of the seriousness in which they were holding themselves and not for any strife amongst them, as they entered through the broad double doors embedded in the face of the stark white building.

A slight chill bit at the skin inside the main foyer. It was nearly empty now, much to the contrast of when Marikk had last been. A few crowds, most likely prospective traders, fellow job-seekers or returning freighter captains, stood at various spots across the broad circular chamber. There were lounge sets and waiting areas placed in strategic areas across the room, each decorated with various potted plants or pieces of artwork, and this is where most of the crowds were now situated, though a few stood at the arced secretarial desk opposite the main entrance and directly in front of the lift tube to the upper levels where the two cousins were now headed. Behind that desk, or more appropriately, behind the young human female that was working busily there, stood a distinguished-looking human male, his head completely bald and giving off a slight sheen from the chamber's lighting, that seemed to be watching their approach.

"Captain Danar, I presume!" the man called out as he waved his right arm over his head, his flowing blue sleeve billowed around it. "I am Alphric Zahn, personal assistant to Mr. Fil'vye." When the duo approached within a few steps, he reached out and vigorously shook both of their hands, the speed of which caught them by surprise.

"We had heard through local channels that your ship had arrived on planet, and, well, when we… when Mr. Fil'vye had heard that you had visited earlier, he wanted to make sure he got the chance to meet with you in person when you returned."

Marikk and Loon alike were wide-eyed at this revelation. Sure, the Mercs had begun to make a name for themselves in the underworld, and even beyond, sometimes for better or for worse, but this was the first time they had heard of an _admirer_.

"This is quite the honor," the Captain finally managed to say, the words falling clumsily from his lipless mouth. "I have heard it is hard enough to get a meeting with your boss, but to be invited before even having one interview!"

"It is indeed an honor, my friends, and one who's scope I'm sure you cannot yet comprehend considering Mr. Fil'vye's considerable importance on Vaynai and in several other sectors across the galaxy. There are even some Hutts who are jealous of his business savvy and success in the field…" Alphric went on and on for several minutes, gushing and boasting of his employers credentials and achievements, all of which the cousins tried to force themselves to smile through though they desperately wanted to laugh, roll their eyes, or _something_ to relieve the pressure of having to listen to what they knew were obviously over-blown lies or simply boot-licking, despite the fact that his employer was not present. As long as this Fil'vye paid well enough, they would stand there all day and force those faux smiles upon their tired faces. Finally, as his spiel began to come to a close, they began to relax and revert to simply nodding in agreement when Zahn finally folded his arms, which had previously been flailing about as he spoke, over his chest and turned to hold his body perpendicular to the lift behind him and the Danars. "Anyway, enough of our little chitchat, Mr. Fil'vye awaits and we shouldn't keep him waiting as it is soon time for his dinner."

The lifttube they entered was lined from floor to ceiling with chrome detailing, save for the transparisteel windows that made up the bulk of its body, which caused it to stand in gleaming contrast to the pure white of the rest of the tower on which it rested. It was a beautiful view out onto the ocean as the trio ascended the buildings sided in silence. Not long afterwards, after traveling up two floors, they came to the level which held the corporate offices. As Zahn was soon to explain, they could not access Mr. Fil'vye's penthouse office by means of the main lift but had to change over to a private lifttube that would take them up the remaining level to where they were to arrive. This next lift, hidden away on the opposite side of the buildings from the last, was much more ornately designed, and completely enclosed. There was a hint of sweet spices in the air and soft music playing in the background as they began the last leg of their journey, standing motionless upon the marble-laid floor. Within seconds, the door in front of them parted, revealing a surprisingly airy chamber with a panoramic view of the ocean all around.

The trio stepped out slowly and Marikk and Loon were quickly caught off guard as the lifttube they had been in retreated and disappeared beneath the flooring not long after they exited. Directly across from them sat an expansive, arcing desk that seemed to reach around a rounded-back chair that rested behind it on both sides, all of which bore the same white coloring of the floor of the chamber and the building itself. There, behind that desk, the Bothan shipping magnate Onoron Fil'vye sat, watching them with interest. To their surprise, he was much smaller in build and stature than they had imagined. Bearing his fangs in a smile, he ran a hand through the spikey crop of hair that ran down the center of his head and then waved his hand forward, offering to his visitors two egg-like chairs, colored like the rest of the room's sterile motif, that sat perched directly opposite his desk.

The Duro took the lead, his eyes glancing at six burly, force pike-armed Klatooinians that stood at specific stations across the chamber, and sat down upon the plush red upholstery of the egg-chair, his cousin following suit while Alphric Zahn stood, head lowered and arms folded behind the back of his sky blue tunic, near where they had entered.

Fil'vye's small body straightened itself within the confines of his chair as he steepled his fingers in front of face. "Captain and Mister Danar, a pleasure to meet the both of you. I am Onoron Fil'vye."

"So I figured, sir," Marikk quipped as he bowed his head momentarily in respect, "and the pleasure is all ours. I must say, hearing that you wanted to meet with us was quite a surprise."

"I like to keep track of those who come and go from my buildings through our extensive surveillance system and identification database, so when I found out that _the_ Captain Marikk Danar had visited our establishment…well, I knew I had to meet with him."

"I'm sorry to be so nosey, sir, but how in the galaxy do you know about us? I mean, we're quite good at we do, yes, but we've hardly become household names in the galaxy… yet."

"A fair question, Captain." The Duro noticed curiously that, as Fil'vye lowered his hands down into his lap, there was a sparkle, an almost child-like excitement, in his eyes. "To put it simply, I've become quite a fan of yours, ever since I heard about your maneuvers around Myto's Arrow over a year ago. Ever since then, I've made it a habit to try and find out what I can about your adventures across the galaxy."

Though he did his best to keep a rather jovial look to his face, the mention of the incident at Myto's Arrow, a previously abandoned travel route fraught with dust storms, nebulae and other obstacles, both annoying and dangerous, made him want to cringe, and most likely the same was true for Loon. On what should have been a relatively routine transport job for an underworld organization, one of their smaller mining operations on Dantooine wanted some resources they had mined on the planet transported to one of their outposts in the Obtrexta Sector.

Marikk and his crew, therefore, decided to travel the Arrow in the hopes of avoiding any unwanted attention but, ironically, ran afoul a pirate fleet that had made its home in the asteroid ruins of a planet that had once been found along the route. It was a grand chase through the asteroid field's deadly maze, a skirmish with an impromptu pirate blockade, and then the final showdown with their pursuers through a crimson Dark Nebulae just on the border of the system that made up the bulk of their encounter Like most of their major adventures in which Marikk's Mercs often found themselves in over their heads, this one was no exception, but, with their ship literally crumbling around them, they were able to finally escape the pirates' grasps and high-tail it to Obtrexta.

With as many situation like that that they had had in their nearly two and a half years of existence, Marikk wondered how much of the original _Nova Hound_ was actually still hanging on to their ship.

"I have connections with a few corporations based out of the Obtrexta Sector from whom I'd originally heard the tale. It's become near legend in those parts because there are few who have met up with those accursed pirates in their own territory and have survived." Fil'vye continued speaking, even as the Captain was lost in thought, "Anyway, lately though, I've heard you ran into a little bit of trouble with the Imperials on Brentaal."

At first there was no response, but when his cousin remained silent for just so long, Loon planted an elbow into the Duro's side and watched as he snapped back to reality, shaking his head vigorously. "Wha… oh, dear… my apologies, Mr. Fil'vye, it's just that your mention of Myto's Arrow brought up some bad memories. Now then, Brentaal you said? Yea, we did have a little run in there and around Chandrilla, and it's actually because of all that that we're on Vaynai, to get our ship repaired."

Fil'vye's tan-coated head bobbed up and down in reply. "I see, I see. Very interesting. Well then, enough of my fan gushing. Let us get down to the business at hand, which might be…"

This time, Loon leaned forward, deciding to take over for his cousin, whether Marikk had wanted him to or not, as they began to enter into his area of expertise. "My cousin and I have come here today, my dear Mr. Fil'vye, in search of work from your fine company for those of us within Marikk's Mercs, if you would obliges us so. If you have followed our career as well as you have said, and I have know doubt you are a man of your word, then you should know that we will do whatever task you might have for us to the best of our abilities and according to your expectations. Be assured, you are in safe hands with Marikk's Mercs."

"No doubt, I'm sure." The tone of the Bothan's voice lowered significantly as he said this, steepling his hands once more. That glimmer which had been in his eyes was now gone. He was all business. "There are a few things we must discuss, though. First thing, knowing your past and the nature of some of you 'adventures', are there any bounties, Imperial or otherwise, currently on the heads of any member of your crew."

Marikk shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of."

"Good. Now, are there any cargoes you are not willing to handle?"

"Are there any differences in pay for transporting legal versus illegal cargo?" Loon quickly injected before his cousin could answer, at which, in response, the Bothan's nostrils began to flare.

"Mr. Danar, I'll have you know that Fil'vye Transport does not participate in the movement of explicitly illegal goods to any system in the Empire. We try to keep all of our operations to the highest code of the shipping mandates under Imperial law." Fil'vye paused, his eyes narrowing and a slight curl rising from the corners of his lips. "However, there are times when we do ask our pilots to transport… our more 'sensitive' cargoes with a greater attitude of discretion for its protection. Not that we have anything to hide, of course, but we just want to make sure that in those cases what we're shipping makes it there without any unwanted interruptions. In those cases, then yes, there is a slight pay increase, but overall Fil'vye Transport gives a straight fee to most of the pilots under our employ, depending on the level of difficulty of the assignment."

"And what fees do you generally pay…?"

"3,000 credits for a beginner's run; 4,500 for the moderate trips; 6,000 for the harder ones."

Leaning forward in his seat, the Neimoidian hybrid waved Onoron closer, which he did oblige. "Listen, can we talk… businessman to businessman? Seeing that you know our credentials, and we have an entire ship to support, what say we talk a straight pay of, say, 10,000 credits?"

"10,000!? I don't even pay my own top pilots that much, besides the fact that we haven't even talked about the difficulty of the job, _if_ I give you one at all."

"Look at it this way, though, Mr. Fil'vye. You won't have to supply a ship for the operation since we have our own, and we would of course be taking care of the maintenance and operations ourselves. Then, also, you would be getting a crew of eight for just over the price of what you would pay for a ship of one to perform a high-level mission for you. A crew with some relative name recognition and an independent ship. Quite economical, if I do say so myself."

Fil'vye grinned, though the look of the predatory businessman was still in his eyes. "You are a very shrewd dealer, Mr. Danar, and I can respect that. What say I bargain for 7,500?"

"10,000," Loon bluntly replied.

"8,000, and not a penny more."

"10,000."

"8,500."

"10,000."

"Alright, alright." The Bothan's brow knitted as he rubbed gently the space between his eyes and sighed. "10,000 credits, as agreed upon, but I get to choose the difficulty of the mission."

"Then it's agreed."

Extending his hand, the half-Neimoidian took the Bothan's furry paw in his and exchanged a firm handshake.

"Good. I'll look through our database and pick out a mission… most appropriate for a crew, and a fee, of such standing. Contact me when your ship is ready and we'll get the final details hammered down." Onoron rose to his feet, standing just shorter than Marikk's shoulder, and shook both of their hands once more. "Again, it was a pleasure to meet both of you. I hope that our relationship will be… most profitable in the days to come. Mr. Zahn will see you out. Have a pleasant evening."

At the beckon of the middle-aged human who still stood motionless close to where they had entered, the two cousins stood from there seats, exchanged quick nods of farewell with Mr. Fil'vye, and made their way over towards the lift as it arose once more at the command of the Bothan Entrepaneur's control console embedded in the arm of his chair. Marikk kept a somber glance at his feet as he made his slowly and entered into the lifttube with his companions. As wonderful as it was that they had managed to get a job for themselves, and to make a few more credits in the process, he wondered what situation exactly Loon had gotten them into. That look upon the face of Fil'vye, that spirit of the shrewd businessman that rose from him, he knew that whatever job they were gonna receive, they were gonna work and sweat for every one of those ten-thousand credits. The stars help them.

-

"Will that be everything today, ma'am?"

Naemi glanced up from her change purse to the Kubaz clerk who was placing her items into the cloth sack she had carried in with her and nodded ardently. Liquid adhesive, high-tension cable, smoke canister, micro-energy cells, and a vial of hypnocane. These caverns were wonderfully ripe with one-stop shops for the girl who needs everything and needs it unseen. Reaching into the little purse in her hand, she withdrew a hand full of cred-chips and slid them with a grin across the counter, all the while taking her bag of supplies in hand. A wink and a nod to the clerk and she made her way swiftly out the door and into the shadowed underground avenue.

Pushing through the crowds, she managed to overhear a slight whine which she soon recognized to be her utility chronometer. She lifted her wrist and adjusted the controls on its side which caused the face of the timekeeper to dissolve and soon after be replaceded by a static-filled gray-green image of an insectoid protocol droid. "Whatcha need, 7-LOM?"

_"My apologies for disturbing you while on your errand, Mistress,"_ came the droid's raspy yet penitent tone through the small speakers, _"but I just wanted to inform you that your equipment has been laid out upon your bunk, as requested, and that the delivery person for your and Master Marikk's dinners has arrived."_

"Great!" The young Zeltron grinned as she pushed through another group of loiterers in the pathway, still staring down at the commlink. "I should be back soon, but if you and Zee would be dears and get everything set up before I'd get back, that would be fabulous."

There was a whistle of compliance in the background while 7-LOM himself bowed. _"It will be done as you request, Mistress Naemi."_

In the pathway ahead, the faint glow of artificial light signaled her approach back to the Promenade. Because of the fact that night had fallen, there would be little problem adjusting as she exited the caverns since the only light down there came from the occasional lighting emplacement and patches of bioluminescent fungus. That was one of the main dangers of the underground, though. You couldn't always see who or what was around the next corner, or who was watching you from the shadows, as was the case now with Naemi as she made her way towards her ship, her home. The eyes of a stranger were locked upon her with keen interest.

-

Marikk walked with slow steps across the bridge from the promenade to the landing platform, his heart aflutter as he moved beneath the light of a partially covered moon. This was the first such dinner invitation for him, he was reluctant to use the word date, in quite a long time, though it was not for lack of trying. Much to his crew's chagrin sometimes, the Captain considered himself something of a ladies' man and usually held no qualms about putting that old smirk on his face and swagger in his step when he saw an attractive woman. Naemi, though… Naemi could utterly tear down that façade when she was around and make him sound like a simpering, awkward teenager.

Ok, maybe that was a little bit of an exaggeration, but still… she had some power over him, and it wasn't her Zeltron pheromones.

As he came into the proximity of Naemi's ship, a Banshee-class Heavy Transport dubbed the _Sleight of Hand_, he began to tug at his collar in discomfort. Instead of his more casual attire, the _Nova Hound_'s Captain opted for a more formal look of a black button-down shirt with a stiff, rounded collar, dress pants and his formal boots, gleaming in the dim light. He glanced up towards the ship's landing ramp as he heard light footsteps approaching and began to straighten his clothing in anticipation of her approach, but what he saw when the being approached from the shadows was not the shapely figure of the young Zeltron woman but a copper-chassied LOM protocol droid with white detailing. Marikk's stomach sunk and began to twist as he watched the droid approach recalling the bad memories culled up from their recent run-in with the bounty hunter 4-LOM.

"Good evening to you, sir," the droid began, stepping in front of Marikk and bowing. "I am 7-LOM, Mistress Naemi's personal assistant. You must be Master Marikk. If you'll follow me, sir, I shall take you to you table."

"Table?" he muttered to himself as he accompanied the shuffling protocol droid around the craft and to the opposite side of the ship. There, on the edge of the circular docking platform, a makeshift awning had been set up and, beneath it, a cargo container had been covered by a red table cloth and transformed into a dining table set with plastic serving ware, plates overflowing with several strips of fried Glaav fish on beds of seaweed, and two mugs of what looked like Kenley's lager, a drink which they had often shared together in past days, all set to the sides of a lantern-like glow lamp. Marikk smirked at the sight, barely noticing as the droid had begun to bow once more and wave out one arm towards the table.

"If you'll please be so kind as to have a seat, Mistress Naemi shall be with you shortly."

With a nod of acknowledgment, he made his way over and took a seat to the left of the 'table' on a smaller crate that had been set up as a chair. A smile broke across his face as he looked over the whole scene and then out over the sea, shimmering in silver light from above. This was far from the fanciest dinner he had ever had, but, for a reunion six years in the making, it was more than adequate. Sniffing the air, he took in the aroma of the fried fish, his eyes widening in realization as he recognized the smell from Uncle Nyyv's restaurant earlier and figured out that she must have ordered take-out for dinner.

_In all the days I've known her,_ Marikk thought as he chuckled to himself and crossed his arms over his chest, _I should have figured that she hadn't prepared this. As much as I love her, she never was a decent cook._

Footsteps against the metal of the platform set him to alert as the Duro spun around to see what being, whether droid or organic, approached him from behind.

"You're looking quite handsome this evening, Mare," came Naemi's voice in a playful tone as the two locked eyes. Leaning over, she wrapped her bare arms around his neck and began to place a light kiss on his check, but unexpectedly backed off, nose wrinkled and a disgusted look on her face as she wiped her hand through the air. "By the stars, what is that hideous odor!?"

"Odor?"

"Yes! Mare, I'm sorry to say it, but you smell like a dying bantha!"

Marikk furrowed his brow to the whole situation. "Hey! That's my cologne you're poo-pooing, I'll have you know!"

"Well, poo-poo is right!" the Zeltron snorted as she spoke with her hand clamped on her nose, more for play than anything now. "I'd ask for my money back."

"Duly noted," he droned, brow still heavy on his eyes as Naemi took her seat across from him, her long, dangly silver earrings bobbing about as she adjusted her sleeveless black dress underneath of her to compensate for her new position. "Thank you for the invitation, by the by, Nae. It's good to get to spend some time with you again."

"Not a problem… not a problem, it's my pleasure as well." Picking up her utensils, she began to cut into the first plank of fish and pierced it with her fork; Marikk doing likewise. "You got to meet Sev on the way in?"

"Sev?"

"Yes. 7-LOM, my assistant. He helps me out around the ship by taking care of finances and other arrangements. Part secretary, part butler. I bought he and an astromech, R2-Z6, since we split, to help me keep the ship running."

"Of all things, though, why an LOM? They're meant for Insectoid species, which you most certainly are not."

There was an almost whimsical look on her face as Naemi took a bite from her food and glanced up beyond the awning to the moon above. "I don't know. He's cute I guess. A darling personality, for a protocol droid. Not quite a prissy or nit-picky as some of those TCs or 3P0s."

"Ahh, I see." With a slight grin, Marikk stirred his fork about the plate and around the food absently. "You never did answer my question earlier about what you're doing here. I assume it has something to do with either Fil'vye or Gallo Memm."

"Subtlety never was your strong point, was it, Mare? That's what Krasba always said."

Both of them paused and glanced to the side awkwardly. Even after almost ten years, the mention of that name still was an open wound. After a few seconds though, the Duro shook his head, almost as if he were literally trying to jolt those bad memories away before glaring back over at Naemi. "I can be subtle when I wish to be, and not to mention _tenacious_. So spill the beans or I'll just keep pestering you, Nae."

In exasperation, the young woman placed a hand on her forehead, a small beaded bracelet sliding down from her wrist to her elbow, and let out a great sigh. "Alright, alright, I'll tell ya'. I was planning to eventually, anyway, since I may need your help."

"My help?"

She nodded. "By what said earlier, I'll assume you've at least heard the name of Gallo Memm. How much do you know about him?"

"I know he's in possession of a rather large gallery of art pieces and ancient artifacts, if that's what you're getting at."

"Yup, right on the nose. Word on the net says that Memm has recently come into possession of something particularly rare off of the antiquities market… a parchment called 'The Scroll of Infinite Enlightenment.' It's value, of course, comes from the particular rarity and age of the artifact, some say even pre-dating the Republic by a few thousand years, and not the mystic mumbo jumbo written on it."

Marikk took his lager in hand and gulped down a good amount of the mug before leaning forward on the table and steepling his elongated fingers in front of his face. There was a mocking air in his voice as he spoke, veiled in feigned sincerity. "And you, out of the kindness of your sweet little Zeltron heart, are going to relieve him of this great burden?"

"Of course." She smirked as she, too, leaned forward and mimicked the Duro's posture. "It's every good little thief's duty. From what I hear, ol' Memm has quite the security set-up around his place, and you _know_ how much I _love_ the challenge." Those words she accented held a sensuousness to them that seemed tickle Marikk's senses and cause goose bumps to form on his arms.

"Yeah, well…" His mind was in a bit of a daze as it fought off that euphoric sensation that gripped him, wondering if she had exuded pheromones unknowingly when she had taken that tone. Like all Zeltrons, she too had the ability to release pheromones to affect those around her, but since she wasn't raised in Zeltron society or around others of her species, she never truly learned how to control them completely and add to this that, by some reason that neither of them ever really understood or explain, Marikk was partially resistant to those pheromones which she released, not falling completely under their spell but merely sent into a relaxed, dreamy state such as he was now. However, now was not the time for mellowing out, and the Duro did his best to shake his mind free, though it took him nearly a minute to do so. When finally he did escape the feeling, he did his best to shape his face into the image of seriousness.

"Wasn't it this love of the challenge," Marikk finally forced out through his azure mouth, "that got you forced into slavery by Vordo the Hutt on Svivren and got that bounty put on our head because of your little adventure to take that sculpture, the Jirdan Spearman, from Denoril Viraxo."

Naemi crossed her hands over her chest and glanced down and off to the side, lower lip extended. "Hey… we escaped Vordo, didn't we? And I charmed Viraxo to let that bounty go."

"And it only cost me 15,000 credits."

"Well, we're alive, aren't we?!" she smirked.

"True, but still, I wish you would pick a slightly safer… and more legal profession to get into." Reaching over, Marikk placed a gentle hand onto her shoulder. "This life as the gallivanting thief is too dangerous. I don't want to see you get hurt, or worse."

"That's why I need you, Mare! I mentioned earlier that I need your help, and well, here it is…" Naemi paused, looking as if she was either gathering her words or the courage to say them, before placing her hand on his and locking eyes with him and smiling warmly. "I need you to be my back-up… stay with the _Sleight of Hand_ in case things go awry. Then, if something _does_ happen, I'll let off a signal from a transponder hidden on me and you and the droids can fly down in the ship, rescue me, and sweep me off into the sunset."

The Duro's face displayed his obvious displeasure. "I don't think you heard a word I said. You can't keep this up, Nae, without one day having to pay the price. It's _too dangerous._"

"Yeah, not nearly as safe mercenary work," she grumbled under her breath, releasing his hand resuming her withdrawn, pouting position. Suddenly though, from her askew point of view, she raised her eyebrows and glared over at him with rather terse features. "How many options do you think I have to fall back on, Marikk, hmm? It's not like I have a bloomin' repertoire of skills I can use. What would I do? Dance in a cantina? Become a fat old aristocrat's consort? Please! Thieving is all I know. It's all I've ever known since my childhood. You know that as well as I do. I'm not going to give it up, so you might as well stop trying and help me."

"It was a hopeless effort," he bemoaned, head lowered and shoulders slumped. "Alright, alright. I concede. I'll help you, if for no other reason than to keep you from getting yourself killed."

Her sullen exterior quickly morphed into one of pure joy. Jumping up, Naemi leaned across the table and kissed him firmly on the lips. "Oh, thank you, Mare! You won't regret this! And, if everything goes well, I'll let you in on….oh, say, 20%."

"How generous of you," Marikk muttered as he finished the last bits of food from his plate.

"Well, my dear Mare," she commented quickly to his supposedly unheard statement, grinning from ear to ear. "A girl's gotta make a living."

-

The matte black gloved hand gripped the small zipper tightly between her fingers and gingerly pulled it up the front of the dark gray jumpsuit, running slowly over each curve and ending at the top of its collar near the middle of her neck. Naemi rotated her shoulders and stretched lightly as she made herself comfortable in her 'business' outfit.

"Mistress Naemi," came Sev's voice suddenly from the entrance to her small living quarters. She spun around, arms stretched up and behind her head as she looked over and locked eye to multi-faceted eye with the droid. "Master Marikk has been made comfortable in the cockpit and I've asked R2-Z6 to attend to him."

"Very good. You two know my signal, so keep an auditory sensor open for it just in case Mare doesn't pick it up."

Reaching over to her bunk, she picked up a small, non-descript box and flipped open the lid. Inside sat several rows of metallic darts stacked one on another, five across and four deep. The young Zeltron snatched up the first row and then slipped them slowly into a hidden compartment in her elbow length gloves. Thanks to some clever engineering from an older acquaintance of hers, these gloves had many hidden surprises, such as this dart launcher, within them which were invisible to casual inspection. They served her quite well over the past few years.

As she loaded the next row into the opposite glove, completing the rearmament of her supplies within the gloves, she listened as Sev shuffled about behind her for several seconds before coming around in front of her, a blue robe, tunic, and her steel gray belt, another piece of equipment packed with hidden functions, in his arms. There was something odd, though, about the way the droid was holding itself. It almost seemed… anxious, maybe nervous.

"What's wrong?" she asked with a sympathetic tone, taking the tunic and slipping that over her jumpsuit and then the belt and snapping it together around the waist of the blue clothe by its large circular buckle with what looked to be an emerald piece of costume jewelry at its center.

"I… I am worried, Mistress. I do not like it when you rush off into such dangerous situations. Though I am only a droid, I have grown quite fond of you, Mistress." The protocol droid bowed as she took up the cloak from his arm and watched as she put it on and pulled the cowl down over her head. "I do not wish to see you harmed and would like to continue in your service for many years to come."

"Awww, that's so sweet, Sev, but you don't have anything to worry about. I've been in tighter spots before."

Sev lowered his head. "As well I know, Mistress Naemi, and every time I have felt the same way. Only now, though, have I decided to say anything."

"Thank you for your concern, Sevvy," Naemi cooed, leaning over and kissing the droid on the top of the head. "I'll be fine. I've got you… and Zee… and Marikk watchin' over me. If anything happens, I'll let you all know and you all can come to the rescue."

"Yes, of course, Mistress Naemi."

As she snapped the last button at the top of the robe, the Zeltron thief held out her arms and spun around, letting the robe billow around her as if she was modeling an evening gown. "Well, how do I look?"

"You look like quite the appropriate pilgrim, Mistress," the droid chirped in his upbeat tone, eyes glowing with pleasure as he watched his owner.

"Excellent. I guess it's time that I was off then." Clasping her hands together in front of her chest, she glanced out from under the hood to Sev and grinned. "Don't worry, dear, I'll be back."

Naemi took a rather pious expression upon her face, holding her head just slightly up before she began to chant some sort of jibberish in a monotone, near whisper dulcet as she made her way out of her quarters. All the while, Sev stood there and watched her as long as he could, sighing as Naemi disappeared from sight before heading back to join the others on the bridge.


	3. Chapter 3

It always felt good to be in the Captain's chair, especially when there weren't bounty hunters, Hutts or Imperials trying to blast them to atoms. Abras leaned back against the plush leather, arms crossed behind his neck as he propped both of his brown, buckled boots on the control console. It was nearly midnight, and though most of the crew were asleep in their quarters, taking advantage of the blessed silence before work began early in the morning, he sat there and kept watch as requested. Thankfully, though, if he had to be up at such a late hour, at least he could do it in comfort. He was sure Captain Marikk would have no complaints.

With a sigh of contentment, he stared out the viewport, not at anything in particular but just for the sake of watching, and began to hum lightly to himself when the distinctive sound of the lift cut through the silence followed by a series of heavy footsteps. There was only one person on the crew it could be.

"What brings you up here this late, Dorm ol' boy?"

The Vurk's eyes widened in surprise as he bowed down to make it through the doorway and stepped into the most forward section of the _Hound_'s bridge. "My word. How did you know it was me?"

"No offense, Dorm," joked Abras as the Captain's chair spun around and he planted his boots firmly upon the flooring, leaned forward and placed his hands upon his knees, "but there's only one person around here that can make an entrance quite like you."

"Ahhh, I see." Though he seemed to understand, there was still a sense of confusion that pervaded Dorm's words, as if he wasn't fully aware of or simply didn't make out what the younger man was saying. "Well anyway, I was just finishing up some modifications to the hyperdrive system and I wanted to fill Captain Marikk in on the work we got done today, but he is not in his quarters and not answering his commlink, so I decided to check up here for him, but again, no luck. You would not happen to know where he is, would you?"

"Yes and no. Last official word to the crew was he was going to dinner with a friend of his he had run into earlier. Then, a few hours ago, he sent me a message saying he wanted me to keep an ear out because he was assisting that friend with some thing or another and he didn't know if they might need back-up or not. He has his reasons for switching it off, I guess."

"I guess. Still seems odd, though." Hands behind his back, Dorm raised a curious eyebrow as a particular thought entered his head. "Did the Captain happen to say _who_ this friend of his was?"

Abras shook his head. "Not a word. Well, usually, unless it's by accident, the only time he turns his comm off is when he's…"

"…on a date," they both said, matter-of-factly, in unison.

"I know Captain Marikk makes many bold attempts, but it isn't often he actually succeeds at a date."

Both of them sat there in silence before Dormanin finally spoke up. "It must be someone special."

"Yeah, I imagine so. Perhaps the Captain will introduce us to her sometime. I'd be interested to see the woman whom he finally managed to hook."

"You do not think they could be…you know… I mean with the comm off and all …"

"Nah, I doubt very much … I mean, they can't be, umm…. you know…" Abras's cheeks turned bright red as he tried to dance around the subject, trying for all he was worth not to go into anything more specific, "because, if they were, why would he have asked me to wait up 'til who knows when for 'back-up'? Not exactly something you would need help from your friends on. No, this is all business… or at least _now_ it is, even if it wasn't to begin with."

"Indeed. It must simply be a matter of concentration, whatever it is."

"Right."

Stretching his arms out after several awkward seconds in which the two just sat there silently, the Vurk mechanic's limbs began to crack as he let out a yawn that made his mouth grow to nearly double its size. "Well, I best be getting some sleep before Mr. Kibo's crew wants to begin work again. I will see you later, Abras."

No words came in reply. Only a wave of the hand in farewell was seen as the pilot's seat spun around once more and two brown boots perched themselves up on the console once more as Abras Seaskimmer's solitary night watch continued.

* * *

Despite the fact that the nobles' desire for security and seclusion was fabled in the archipelago, it seemed rather peculiar that the lifttube to Gallo Memm's estate was down a corridor carved smoothly into the island's stone only a few meters off of the main avenue of the Promenade. Of course, the two burly Weequay guards that stood at opposite sides in front of the lift, brandishing their blaster carbines with those menacing, mummified expressions, would surely serve as a more than adequate deterrent for anyone who might want to poke their heads where they don't belong.

The Promenade, for the most part, was empty, though a few passers-by moved here or there between the few restaurants and cantinas that were still open at this late hour, but a solitary figure, cloaked in blue, appeared in the light of the iridescent signs that illuminated the store fronts, striding slowly down into the corridor towards the guards. With heavy scowls, the two Weequay guards thundered forward, weapons displayed prominently over their chests as they blocked all passage.

"What is your business here," the one to the right grunted suddenly, raising his lip in anger as he did.

Hands pressed flat against each other over her stomach, Naemi's violet eyes peered out from the shadows beneath her cowl. "I am but a humble pilgrim seeking passage to the Temple of Kooroo, kind sir."

Both guards looked at each other and then nodded. While the Weequay on the left stepped back towards the lift and a pair scanners embedded in opposite sides of the corridor, perhaps guarding in case she bolted for the tube, the other stepped closer to the young woman and pulled back her hood.

"Well, well… a Zeltron," the brute sneered, as if he had discovered some great hidden secret. "Why exactly would one of you want up to the temple. It _isn't_ a night club."

"Unlike most members of my species," she began, head bowed and eye closed lightly, "I have forsaken such… _lustful_ ways for a life of peace, meditation and chastity. Being on Vaynai for the time being as I continue my travels, I thought I would make use of this Temple of Kooroo I had heard so much about and the ways of the pilgrims there, if you would so oblige me."

Again, both Weequay glanced and nodded once more to each other. Then, the one closest began to move his hands up and down her body quickly, frisking her for any weapons. He first allowed her to keep her outer robe over her, but then lifted it without warning and began searching closer to her body. All the while, Naemi tried to keep from giggling as she felt the guard's hands travel across her body, but while she tried to retain her composure, she failed to notice him pause his search.

"What," the Weequay grumbled, wrenching her belt free from her waste violently and pointing to rather garish looking buckle, "is this?"

"That, my dear sir, is my focusing jewel." Opening her eyes, Naemi reached over to the buckle carefully, as to not enflame his anger, and unscrewed its facing to withdraw the smooth green imitation jewel and placed it in the palm of her adjoined hands. "I use this jewel as a conduit during meditation through which I may let my cares, worries, and emotions flow into to free my mind and put myself at rest. I carry it in my belt like that to free my hands as I travel."

"Alright then," the Weequay mumbled, with as close to an apologetic tone as he could muster in that sea of apprehension and misery that filled his being.

As she took the belt from his hands, replaced the jewel in its holder and then wrapped it all around her waist once more, the guard stepped to the side and allowed her passage forward to his companion. With slow strides she approached him, but was stopped abruptly as he held out his hand and kept her in place between the scanners.

"Stand there and do not move." The twin devices hummed to life, light shining out from them, slowly traveling up and down in opposite directions as they scanned her person for anything that might have been hidden from the first inspection. After several routes back and forth over her person, the scanner came to a rest and reported its findings negative for any hidden devices.

"She's clean."

Removing his hand from the scanner's control panel, the Weequay guard turned around and opened the lifttube door and then motioned his companion forward. Before she could realize it, Naemi was walled in by the two burly men and hustled quickly into the lift.

There was a sudden jolt as, at the guard's request as he worked at the controls, the lifttube accelerated quickly up through the levels of Streysel Island. Despite the distance, it seemed like little to no time at all before the doorway opened again and relieved the young Zeltron's nostrils with fresh air after having been caught between the two smelly Weequay. To her dismay, though, when she finally caught her first glimpse of the topside realm of Gallo Memm from behind the forward Weequay, she found four more guards of equally impressive stature waiting there for them.

The guard behind her placed a hand on her shoulder and herded Naemi quickly out of the tube and into the moon's gleaming light. As quickly as she could, before the six Weequay began to circle around her, she tried to take in as much of the landscape as she could. The area in which they stood now, near the lift, was relatively clear of any obstructions, being dominated by a moderately-sized lake flanked by peculiar statues of four-armed aliens, three on each side, but from what she could tell, most of the island was covered in forested areas and underbrush, which would aid her greatly when she went to make her move. Most interesting, though, amongst all she saw, was the side profile of the Nimbanel's villa on the far side of the island from where they were, two guard towers rising from the corners of the building which she was able to see, but any further observations were quickly obstructed as her escorts gathered around and sent her on her way.

Seven pairs of footsteps crunched against the gravel path, one of many that intertwined the island, as they walked in silent march towards the Temple of Kooroo. From level terrain they trudged their way up a large hill over which their path went, the view around them growing more and more plain. Trees, trees and more trees. Nothing spectacular… that is until they finally crested the hill and the temple came into view in the distance. While not exactly a breath-taking site, the ancient structure was still quite amazing. A dome-shaped structure, its rough-hewn stone bricks were becoming overgrown with vines that creeped up its body, almost as if reaching for it uppermost heights and the small cupola, a smaller dome that rested upon four small pillars over an opening which would allow sunlight to shine down into the temple's courts, which sat perched there.

It only took the group a minute, if even that, to get down the hill and enter into the temple's portico which met right up to the gravel path. Naemi paused as she stepped under the portico's roof, checking to see if the guards would give her any more instructions, but not only did they say nothing, but the two who had met her on the Promenade were already on their way back while the others took up stations on both sides of the entranceway.

_Such a wonderful bunch of boys. Bet they really liven up the parties around here, _she quipped in the back of her mind, wrinkling her nose as she turned, entered into the temple, and began to make her way down the worn, torch-lit steps which most likely led to some sort of antechamber if not even to the central shrine chamber itself.

Much to her surprise, when the steps ended and she arrived at her destination, the inside of the Temple of Kooroo's shrine chamber was much larger than she suspected, nearly half of its body hidden underneath the ground, the inside bathed in the dim silver moonlight that filtered in from the cupola above. Along the sanctuary's perimeter, a stone ledge was erected, the temple's only furnishing, and upon its edge between the light and shadow's of the chamber's far reaches, thirty blue-robed pilgrims sat in their meditative positions and chanted. It was an ethereal site that sent a shiver down the Zeltron's spine. Each of the figures' faces were hidden in darkness but all seemed to be peering out at her, though she did not know for sure if they were even aware of her entrance. Keeping her mind clear, she shook the feeling and walked slowly towards the temple's center.

_I don't wish to disturb the pilgrim's meditation, for my benefit and their's, and a direct confrontation with the guards at the door is out of the question. _She glanced up momentarily and smiled as she saw the four-pillared cupola directly above her. _I guess, then, the only way out… is up._

Unbuttoning her robe, Naemi pushed the front of it to the side, placed both hands around her belt buckle and pressed a small button on its back with her right thumb. Silently, the front of the buckle, jewel and all, flew through the air, attached to a roll of high-tension cable, and found its spot as it wrapped around one of the pillars of the cupola. Then, thumbing the button that had fired her grappler, she began to retract the cable slowly back into its casing which, in turn, allowed her to quietly ascend up to the top of the dome. All the while she glanced around her with a slight bit of aprehension, hoping her stunt hadn't disturbed her fellow shrine occupants.

Once she reached the one meter opening of the cupola, though, her stomach turned slightly as she finally saw the space between the roof and the small dome, roughly a third of a meter. _Well, Naemi girl, looks like you're gonna have to do some wriggling to get out of this one._

She spun around on the length of the cable that left her dangling and positioned herself just right so that then, as she began to slide through the opening, she was facing up. Turning her head sideways, Naemi eased her way through, holding her breath and pushing as she wrenched her upper torso through the opening, trying to be careful of any sensitive areas as she moved, the cupola pressing down tightly upon her. However, once that was free from its confines, the rest of her body came out rather easily. With a smirk, she imagined that was probably something of what it was like when she was born, only much more unpleasant an experience for her mother than for the temple, she was sure.

Perched upon the top of the dome at last, she again pressed the controls on her grappler and scaled down the back of the temple to freedom. So far, so good.

* * *

The two droids' heads slowly pivoted from left to right as they followed the Duros captain on his well-worn path across the bridge. He was apparently nervous or at least visibly concerned, this much both of them could tell as Sev glanced down at his squat Astromech companion who warbled in acknowledgment. Not knowing what quite to do, the insectoid protocol droid scuttled over and placed a hand on the Captain's shoulder in an attempt to get him to pause for a moment.

"Pardon me, Master Marikk, sir," Sev began with an almost apologetic tone to his voice. "But my counterpart and I are slightly concerned at your behavior. Is there anything we might be able to do to help?"

With a slight smirk, the Duros placed his hands on his hips, taken by surprise by the droids' concern, and began to shuffle his feet and lower his head in embarrassment. He hadn't realized he was being so obvious with his emotions that even the two of them could tell something was the matter. "Well, there's not really anything you can do, really. I… I am just concerned about Naemi, that's all. I wasn't happy with her going on this little mission of hers in the first place and I guess, well… I guess I'm just hoping she is alright."

"I can sympathize with you, sir, for I too did not wish for Mistress Naemi to go off. I'm so concerned she may injure herself one of these times."

"Listen to the two of us. We sound like a couple of doting parents. I said just about those exact words to her myself, earlier." He could tell that Sev didn't quite understand the analogy, though the droid did not say anything to betray that fact. For some odd reason, the Captain found this amusing, a Protocol droid finally found speechless and chuckled to himself with a lightened spirit as he abandoned his circuit and plopped recklessly down into the pilot's seat. Perhaps now that he was beginning to relax he could actually talk.

"Tell me, Sev, how does she plan on sneaking any equipment onto Memm's estate with the heavy security he has. Even if a physical search doesn't pick them up, I'm sure scanners would. At least, with the old equipment she used to carry."

"Oh my, I guess Mistress Naemi never told you about her latest acquisitions, did she?"

Marikk cocked a brow in curiosity and shook his head. "No, can't say that she did."

"Artoo, if you please." Whirring to life, the holographic projector on the face of the Astromech fired a bright beam of light close to the deck. Within seconds, it took the form of a pair of long gloves and a multi-segmented belt with a large, jeweled buckle. "These pieces of equipment were developed by Santel Skeej, a very talented engineer known to work for various underground cartels on and around the planet Nar Shaddaa. In exchange for a small favor he had Mistress Naemi perform, he created for her these pieces to help enhance her arsenal." Reaching over, Sev tapped Zee on the head and the projection shifted slightly as several cutaway sections and notes appeared over the items.

"Each of these items employs a special micro-technology which allows several miniature devices to be implanted in both the gloves and the belt which, invisible to the naked eye and activated with a single touch to a specific region on the item in question. Some of these hidden features include an ascension attachment, dart launcher, smoke capsules, compartments on the belts for various infiltration tools and an emergency signal, among others things. To take into account for all of this equipment on her person, a highly sophisticated sensor shroud was installed which allows all of this hidden technology to remain just that, hidden, to even the most sophisticated of sensor suites."

The blue hologram was reflected in the Duros's eyes as he sat there and stared over the projection, hands planted beneath his chin. "This must have been some favor for her to get tech like this."

"One could say that, yes. Mistress Naemi was asked to break into Neuro-Saav Corporation's headquarters and retrieve some data and schematics on a top secret sensor project they had been developing."

"And I take it she succeeded?"

"With flying colors, though there was one particularly sticky situation on that job where Artoo and myself thought we were going to have to come and airlift her out. Thankfully, that does not happen very often, if at all, and this situation turned out to be no different." Sev bowed to the Captain, a sign that his impromptu presentation was over, and then tapped Zee again to have him to deactivate the projector. "She is most accomplished in her field, as you know."

The Captain smiled warmly. "How well I know."

"If we may so request," interjected the Protocol droid suddenly after several moments of silence, "would it be possible to hear any of your adventures with our Mistress before we came into her ownership?"

"Of course. I'd be happy to."

R2-Z6 rolled forward from where he had been parked and began beeping and squawking some comment or another as Sev stood there and took in what he said. "An excellent idea, Artoo." Bowing once more to the Captain, the taller droid's eyes lit up with excitement as he took up position right next to his counterpart. "While you are telling us your tale, Master Marikk, perhaps there might be something we could do for you to make you more comfortable? Something to eat or drink, perhaps? Our mistress keeps a wide variety of libations aboard the ship at all times."

"Since I'm pulling this little favor for Nae, what are some of her better drinks that she has in stock?"

"Well, Mistress Naemi did acquire a flask of Cassandran Choholl for a job she performed for Jerba the Hutt two months ago."

Marikk nearly choked on his own saliva as his eyes double in sized and he leaped forward in his seat in excitement. He couldn't believe what he heard, or the sheer luck of the situation. "Ch…Choholl…she has a flask…of Cassandran Choholl!? Thank the stars, thank the stars! Bring me two glasses and the entire flask of Choholl! She and I will celebrate when she gets back, if there's any left that is! This will be a grand old story time, indeed! Haha!"

The entire bridge seemed suddenly filled with excitement as 7-LOM's eyes brightened greatly and Zee bobbed back and forth on his wheels.

"Hurry, Artoo! Fetch the flask and glasses for Master Marikk!" Sev cried, patting his companion on the dome in appreciation as the little astro droid retracted his third tread and wheeled off. "Oh my, I am so excited! What tale shall you tell us, Master Marikk?"

"Hmmm, well then, how would you like to hear the story of my and Naemi's adventure to the planet Tammuz-An…"

* * *

All was still. Not a leaf rustled or blade of grass waved. Naemi held her body tightly against the trunk of the tree and let not a breath escape her lips. On the opposite side of where she stood, a small dirt path cut a swath through the thick underbrush of the wooded grove, and upon it two Weequay guards such as those she had already encountered made their route around the island on patrol. Her eyes scrolled from left to right as she listened for them as they passed, almost as if she were watching their movements. As with her escorts earlier, these guards were not big on conversation, but the impact of their heavy feet upon the ground gave her all the warning she needed.

Under her breath she gave a count of twenty after the sound of their footsteps had passed before she began again to make her way through the wildwood, running from tree to tree along the island's perimeter until she felt secure once more. She had shed her pilgrim's robes in the bushes shortly after escaping from the Temple of Kooroo and was now clad only in her dark gray jumpsuit and a mask of the same color she had had hidden in a compartment in her belt to help conceal the bright color of her skin against the night.

Several minutes elapsed since her encounter with the guards and, when finally the young Zeltron felt it was safe and that she was alone there once more, she took off sprinting through the brush with light steps, moving swiftly and silently like a predator on the prowl, hidden from sight. By her estimations, she had made it over half the length of the island; her only obstacles in having to clear one patch of open land between the grove around the temple and the current stretch of trees she found herself in and avoiding that one patrol a few minutes back. She was having good luck on this trip so far. Now if only her infiltration of the villa went so well.

Naemi's chest heaved as she ran, trying to take in as much oxygen as possible to keep her body going. Her plan was to cover the greatest amount of terrain in as little time as possible and she didn't want to have to stop for a break to catch her breath. All this aside, she also knew herself well enough that at the pace she was pushing her body, if she stopped for a rest, she would be down for a good bit of time.

Streaking through the night at the speed she was and losing track of how much of the island she had covered, Naemi was surprised when soon she found herself out of her cover, away from the confines of the trees, and in the middle of an open, well-manicured plot of land on which rested the long, multi-storied bulk of an Ubrikkian Luxury Yacht.

As soon as she realized her mistake and the possible danger she was suddenly in, she darted back to the edge of the thickets and scanned the area for any other presence besides her own, scowling as she did. After a quick check, and much to her relief, she relaxed knowing she was alone and unseen.

_Apparently the old Nimbanel is home_, the Zeltron thief thought as she glanced around again at her surroundings and quickly took everything in. The area was small, just big enough for the yacht with some room around it to spare. Around the area she spied a metal maintenance shed, most likely storing what was needed to keep Memm's Yacht supplied and in good repair, and a row of well-manicured bushes and two four-armed, pike-brandishing alien statues, much like those she had seen by the lake earlier, guarding the entrance to the landing field. Thankfully, they blocked all view of the space from the rest of the island, giving her some freedom of movement here. This would provide her an excellent chance to catch a quick breath before moving on and to scavenge some supplies she might be able to use later on.

She made her way over to the maintenance shed and began to study the control panel beside the door inside. It was a simple enough system. Obviously nothing too complicated was needed for a simple tool shed. Stretching out her thumb and index finger, she pressed their tips firmly together and ignited a small laser from a beam emitter in the tip of her index which she then proceeded to use to trace around the edge of the panel's face plate in order to remove it. As the rectangular cut finally came to completion, the plate tumbled off with ease and exposed a flood of wires inside. With something between a chuckle and a sigh, Naemi began to sort through the mess and go about the work of trying to bypass the door locks. _I always did hate this part of the job. There better be something good in here by the time I get this door open or Memm is going to find a _deep_ scratch on the hull of his little pleasure yacht._

Sparks danced and leapt around her fingers as she severed, crossed, reconnected, and crossed wires again in an effort to bypass the system. At first, it didn't seem like her efforts were going to work but then, on her fourth attempt, as the circuit she had created surged to life, the door to the shed began to slide open with a satisfying hiss. _Finally!_ She exclaimed in the back of her mind with a smile on her face as she entered to browse through the enclosed contents.

Ever since she was nothing more than a pint-sized child on the streets, she had been brought up in the art of thieving, of blending in with the shadows and avoiding detection. As Naemi grew older, and stronger, so too did her skills increase. Wherever she was, whatever she was doing, her senses always had to be attuned to her surroundings so that she remained unseen. It was only rarely she allowed herself to go lax in this, but when she did, it usually meant she would be paying for that small lapse in judgment later.

Looking each item over as she sorted through the shed's shelves and containers, she spied various items here and there that she would tuck away in her belt that might prove useful later. Methodically, she went about her work, leaving no box unopened and no obstacle unturned, for she did not want to take lightly this blessing of an opportunity. Then, as she reached down to a storage container on a lower shelf, the sharp approach of a blade against the small of her back, not enough to cut the flesh but to merely alert the victim to its presence, caused her eyes to close slowly as she shot a curse out under her breath.

"**This is a restricted area,"** the metallic voice bellowed, mostly likely belonging to the wielder of the blade at her back. **"Your bio-scans are not currently within our systems. Please present identification or you will be terminated on sight. Resistance will not be tolerated."**

"Well, you don't leave much room for me to do anything else, do ya?" she joked to her captor, in spite of the desire situation she found herself in. Rising to full height from her crouched position, Naemi held a vibrospade she had taken off one of the shelves tightly to her chest. "I'm getting my ID ready now, so please hold on a moment, sir."

Her eyes narrowed almost to closing and a broad grin on her face, she turned her head slowly and looked back over her shoulder at the droid. "Here we go. I have _exactly_ what you need…" With her gaze locked on the cycloptic head of the four-armed Guardian droid, a towering machine so large that it could only fit one arm and its head through the entrance of the shed, she began to turn her entire body slowly towards it, keeping her make-shift hidden from sight. Then, when she had spun almost three-fourths of the way around, her eyes shot open and a sneer crossed her face as she withdrew the vibrospade from hiding and shot it with precision into the droid's optical scanners. "You wanted my ID? Here ya go. The name's Naemi Alto… and _you're_ about to be scrap."

"**Warning! Warning! Unit compromised! Assistance required!"**

"And what was that again about being terminated on _sight_?"

Unable to attain its target's location, the guardian droid began to lunge its axe-bladed lance forward, stabbing several times into the back of the shed. Naemi danced around the blade with ease, avoiding all of its strikes, or so she thought. Grabbing an energy cutter off of the tool shelf, she actually jumped onto the blade at the droid's next lunge and did a running leap off of it towards the droid's head, activating the cutter as she did, and severed its head clean from its chassis. As the head fell with a clang upon the metal flooring, she held onto the droid's body as it rose from kneeling into the shed, still fighting wildly to bring her down, though it had no idea where its target might lie.

"So, you can still operate even without your chrome top, aye? Well, let's see what else we can do here, shall we?" Naemi scrabbled up onto the droid's shoulders and looked down into its exposed neck. With a smirk, she reached into its body and began yanking wildly, removing parts, wires, and anything else she could get her hands on. As a result, the Guardian droid began to dance about spastically as its system began either to overload or shutdown, the damage becoming too much for it to handle, until at last it paused in step and crumpled to the ground in a big durasteel pile.

Leaping to the ground, Naemi clapped her hands free of dust and coolants and glanced back at the fallen droid warrior. "If this is the extent of Memm's security, this job is going to be easier than I suspected."

Behind her, the sudden sound of heavy footfalls against the sod made the hair on the back of her neck tingle. Glancing back slowly, her stomach sank as another guardian droid, similar to the one she had just fought, marched forward, this one armed with two pikes.

"**You are in a restricted area. By decree of Lord Memm, all intruders are to be terminated immediately. Please do not resist.**"

_Oh, this is just absolutely fabulous. Great job on keeping yourself hidden, Nae, ol' girl. _With a sigh, the young Zeltron slipped her foot underneath the disabled droid's lance and kicked it up into her right hand, raising it up into a defensive stance. _I can't go at this thing head on. For one thing, I can't make too much noise or I'll have more guards to deal with, and besides that, there's also the fact that I'm severely outclassed by this thing in both size _and_ strength._

With slow, methodic steps, the Guardian droid marched onward towards its prey; all the while Naemi backed away with every meter it gained, glancing around the area, trying to devise some method of defeating the droid. As she scanned her surroundings, she noticed something odd: stone rubble at the bottom of the two pedestals near the entry way to the landing field, where there had once been……. statues. She cursed to herself once more as the realization dawned on her that the Guardians were hidden _inside _the statues. _Stang…too sloppy, Naemi. I should have realized that there might have been hidden traps. It's an all too common procedure, especially with these reclusive, rich-types. _

Returning her gaze solely upon the droid, she was surprised at the speed at which such a creation could move as it closed the distance between them and swung its right pike straight down towards the ground at her. Teeth clenched, she leapt back and then sprung up with her hands onto the weapon as it impacted with the sod and began running up its handle until she made out the form of the left pike in her peripheral vision, swinging perpendicularly at her waist. That too she managed to dodge with a swift leap to the air, landing with a delicate step upon the side of its blade and, seeing an excellent opportunity, lunged forward with her own blade forward towards a bare spot of wires that made up its neck. However, her blow was quickly intercepted and blocked by the droid's other pike blade before it tossed her through the air as it lifted its left pike into the upright position at its side.

To the best of her ability, she attempted a stable landing as she neared the ground but ended up in a kneeling position and slid across the grass. Again, with inhuman speed, she again found the droid's pike already hurtling down at her and quickly raised her weapon to locked blade with handle as she tried to keep herself from being rendered in two. With all her strength, she pushed her own lance up with both hands and tried to repel her attacker. For a while it seemed her efforts were proving successful, but soon after she realized, as she was being driven down closer and closer to the ground, just how impossibly outclassed in strength she truly was, as she had thought before. Continued direct confrontation was definitely out of the question and if she didn't diffuse this situation quickly, getting the Scroll of Infinite Enlightenment would be the least of here worries. In one last ditch effort, she shifted her weight with upon her weapon and slid out under her attacker, weapon and all and caused the automaton stumbled forward. As best it could, the droid used its other blade in its upper arms to try and pin her to the ground as she slid underneath it, but the effort proved to slow as she narrowly escaped, however losing several hairs from the top of head in the process.

Quickly getting to her feet, she found that her attacker had yet to turn around towards, leaving its back vulnerable. This was it, possibly her last chance to catch the droid off guard without being completely drained of all strength herself. Casting her eyes upon her target, Naemi let loose a sly smirk underneath her mask as she leapt into the air, planted the lance's blade in the back base of the mechanical being's neck and pole-vaulted up, using her weight to drive the weapon down through its body and into the Guardian droid's vital systems. Like its companion before it, the guard began to lurch spastically as it shorted out and fell into mechanical death.

Her shoulders heaved in exhaustion and sweat gleaned across brow as she stumbled backwards and leaned up against the side of the shed. She had won at last, but her operation was not yet over. The hard work had yet to begin.

Despite all of her better judgments, she dropped down onto the ground and drew her knees up close to her chin. "I think…I think I'll just rest here…only for a moment, though." As her body began to relax against the cold metal, Naemi let out a sigh of relief and began to chuckle to herself in both victory and ecstasy as she felt her heart pound in her chest and the adrenaline course through her body. This was the greatest prize of all. "Wh…what…what a rush..."


	4. Chapter 4

The shining face of Vaynai's moon that had so beautifully accentuated her dinner with Marikk and then lit her way as she escaped the Temple of Kooroo was quickly slipping away. Thick clouds swept in and blanketed the night in true darkness as a strong breeze blew through the island-top compound, stirring up the grass and trees to life. Stalking low to the ground through the foliage, Naemi pushed away a branch from in front of her face and, with a sparkle of anticipation, spied the destination of her little venture. At last, the villa of Gallo Memm was within reach. She searched the grounds directly around the building from her hiding spot to make sure that there were no sentries on patrol, all the while constantly darting her eyes back towards the two guard towers on the far left side of the building, the opposite side of the grounds from where she sat, their search lights cutting through the inky night. Those two were her main concern, while also staying away from any eyes that might be on the other side of the transparisteel windows that were positioned liberally around the villa's walls. As the sentry lights continued on their routes, going back and forth over the areas of the house facing towards the center and outer edge of the island, she noticed the wall right in front of her was almost completely hidden in the shadows. _Well, there are no primary entranceways on this side of the building save for the windows, and they're probably rigged with security sensors. My best bet would probably be to make my way towards the roof and see if I can find a better way in up there._

Waiting for the light that would come closest to her to pass by on its route, Naemi pushed the foliage completely away from in front of her, took a few cautious steps forward, beyond it, and then released it back to its original position without a sound before bolting across the few meters of open lawn and pressing her back up against a section of stucco wall between two of the windows. By the way she figured it, the wall on this section of the house was a little over three and a half meters, so it wouldn't be too much of a problem to scale. With her hands held out in front of her, she pressed firmly down on the center of both her palms and stared at them intently. It was but a moment before, from various points on her hands, a clear liquid adhesive began to spread out and cover her palms. She smirked to herself under her mask and then spun around, placing one hand onto the wall just over her head and letting the adhesive take hold. Once it was in place, she tested its grip and began to pull herself up as high as she could hold herself before holding that position for a silent ten count. When her time had passed, Naemi relaxed her arm and let her body drop to the ground, her hand coming free of the wall with minimal effort. It was working just as Skeej had described.

Lifting her left hand up, she placed it onto the wall right besides her head, and then proceeded to raise the right hand just over her head to roughly where it had been before, about two meters from the ground. She mustered her strength and began to lift her body up until her head was level with her right hand; then reaching up again, she raised the left above them both. Slowly, she alternated in placing her hands and continued to lift herself, her muscles burning as she made her steady course up the wall. After about five repetitions, she found herself at the top of the wall and pushed herself up with both hands just high enough so that she could peak over the edge of the roof. Besides the two towers on the far side of the building, the top of the villa was made up of various gables and domes of varying heights and angles covered in sheet-like slabs of crimson stone layered like reptile's scales, with some areas having windows embedded down in them. Like those near the ground, these, too, were probably wired. Most likely, there would be an entranceway into the security control center inside via one of the towers. She figured she would have to end up there some time, so the best route for her to take would be right into the belly of the beast, as it were.

There was a small problem, though. Only now, having a better view of the upper levels, was she able to see that two more burly Weequay guards stood in her way, one in each tower, manning the lights. They would have to be dealt with first.

Naemi reached up and latched her hands onto the edge of the roof, a much more comfortable position to hold herself up by than what she had been previously doing, and then lowered her head and body back down quickly as the search light from the left tower scanned her area of the roof. As soon as it had passed over and she was once more in the clear, she hoisted herself back up as far as her elbows onto the roof and propped herself up. She didn't have long and would have to make her move quickly if she wanted to proceed. Taking her right arm, she lifted into the air and bent her hand down as she aimed her wrist at the left Weequay guard. Steadied by her left hand, she squinted her eyes and pressed down firmly on the middle of her forearm with her thumb. _Let's see how you like this, ya big goon. _With an almost silent 'fmphf', a small projectile shot from her wrist and sailed across the open air. Intently, she watched the guard for any reaction, fully knowing that it would take several seconds before he would show any reaction, if she had hit the mark. Several seconds passed as she watched his movements with a keen eye before noticing, as his light's circuit began to come around towards her again, that its path was starting to become erratic and that the guard's face had relaxed, his mouth was hanging open. He was in a daze.

Seeing that her attack had taken full effect, she changed her aim, watching as the right guard continued back and forth in his path, and then waited for just the right moment, when the back of his neck was visible, to fire the second projectile. At first, he didn't seem to notice anything; he just swatted behind him, obviously thinking he was being bitten by some sort of insect. In time however, just like his companion, his body, too, relaxed as the drug coursed through his veins and sent him into this absent-minded state, continuing on in his patrol simply because he was stuck in that movement.

Her path was now secure.

With a little struggle, Naemi removed her sticky hand from her right arm and then pulled herself up completely onto the roof, almost going into a roll as she hoisted her right leg over the edge, just as the patrol light came around and caught her in its beam. This was inconsequential, though, as was evident by her nonchalant attitude about the situation. The guard was awake, yes, and she was sure he had seen her, but most likely he didn't care. The pin-like darts she had fired from her glove were filled with Hypnocane, a drug normally used as a pain-killer by inducing a semi-hypnotic trance state. She could walk right up and knock them on their heads right now and they wouldn't give it a second thought.

Standing up to full height on top of the roof, she clapped both of her adhesive-covered hands together lightly and began to rub them together, at first not making much progress in obtaining movement. Nevertheless, as friction began to build, small pieces of the adhesive began to flake off and the movement of her hands was becoming ever more free until at last all was restriction was removed and the last piece of the adhesive plopped at her feet. With that out of the way, Naemi wasted no time in moving on, sprinting lightly across the roof towards the towers, making sure to keep a good bit of room between herself and the various windows and skylights coming up from the house. Up and down from one level of the roof to another, she covered her ground quickly until she found herself at the small patch of roofing between the two edifices…a crossroads. Should she go into the left tower or the right? At times like this, there was only one thing she could do…. 'Hinka Dinka Dy.'

She had learned this game on the streets of Mos Espa as a child and used it whenever she had a quick decision she needed to make. Waving her forefinger back and forth, she repeated 'Hinka Dinka Dy's' limerick whimsically under her breath, bobbing her head as she did, until she finger came to rest on the left tower at the end of the rhyme. _Lady luck says the left tower. Let's see if I'm today's grand prize winner._

The top edge of the tower was only about two and a half meters from the point of the roof where she stood, so it didn't take any special gadgets to scale this wall, only a short running leap to get high enough to clasp her fingers onto the outlook's ledge. It was but a simple maneuver as she pulled herself up over the side of the tower, flinching slightly at a small pain in her side but disregarding it, and did a quick survey of what was inside the confines of the circular receptacle. The guard post was relatively sparse with but a menacing-looking rifle propped up against the inside wall beside the guard and his light, but what sat opposite them made her heart skip with delight. A small passage had been made in the floor for a flight of stairs stairs, at the base of which sat a door, most likely leading to the security control center, as she had theorized. Now to set her plan into motion.

Taking a few seconds, she closed her eyes, came up along-side the guard and placed her head nearly onto his should and let her natural pheromones flow into the air. Though with the Hypnocane in his system he should be quite apt to following her commands, the added benefit of her Zeltron pheromones wouldn't hurt anything. With this done, she reached up and pulled the mask down from over her mouth and began to whisper into his auditory tube, letting her breath tickle the side of his head.

"Come on, darling, let's go inside."

The Weequay mumbled to himself quietly and let his hands drop from the light's controls. Grasping onto his broad shoulders, she guided him to the edge of the stairs and had him stand in place as she whispered to him once more.

"Go down and open the door for me, then stand in the doorway. I'll be right down and then we can have some time alone."

Again, the guard grumbled and nodded his head before slowly making his way down the stairs with almost drunken steps and began to enter his code into the keypad beside the door as Naemi reached down to her belt, opened a small compartment and snatched three small items into her hand.

* * *

There was near silence in the control room, save for the clattering of technician's fingers upon their work stations and the occasional bleep from monitoring equipment. Security Technician 003 yawned as he leaned back in the chair at his station, glancing at his other three human coworkers as they worked busily at their consoles, all the while feeling the eyes of one of the monstrous Weequay weigh down upon him. There were three Weequay in the chamber to the four human security specialists; each of the burly guards making sure that the techs kept the equipment running properly while keeping their eyes upon the security readouts. None of the mummy-faced warriors said a word, though it was still likely that they were communicating with each other. He had heard that the Weequay had some ability to communicate information to one another through pheromonal discharges. This fact would greatly explain precision with which they worked together, despite their silence, and added something to the menacing aura of the brutes. If it wasn't for the pay, he probably would have just gone to another position somewhere so he didn't have to put up with having his 'supervisors' breathing down his neck and constantly staring over his shoulder, but Gallo Memm's coffers were particularly deep for those who helped to keep his possessions safe. This was due to the fact that, if his professionals indeed did their jobs correctly, there would still be a credit flow deep and wide at the Nimbanel's disposal.

Cracking his neck, 003 leaned forward once more and went back to work reviewing the scanner logs from each of the Guardian droids scattered across the island, going next to units G-56430 and G-56431 which were positioned at the entrance of the landing field. As he went about trying to access their imbedded surveillance modules, to his surprise, the display reported that the uplink was currently unavailable.

"What in the Rishi Maze…?"

Surely this was a mistake. Perhaps there just some temporary interference or maybe a temperamental component in the system. Going through the program once more, he again attempted to execute an uplink with the Guardian droids' systems, but still it reported as being unavailable.

"Uh….sir, I think we have a problem…"

The largest of the Weequay guards in the room lumbered over and lowered his head almost down level with Technician 003, which was quite a feat considering there was almost a meter's height difference between them. A slight groan emitted from the guard's throat as he looked the screen over with dismay when, unexpectedly, the entrance from the control center to the outer guard tower suddenly hissed open and came blinding light pouring from the doorway into a room that had just seconds ago been lit only by the iridescent glow of the monitors and control boards. All three guards and four technicians shielded their eyes at the luminary bombardment when a bulky silhouette began to eclipse the doorway. Lip raised in contempt as he continued to shield his eyes, the larger guard in the control center growled at the one that now stood before them.

"What are you doing away from your post, and why is that search light pointed down here, you fool!? May Quay strike you down if you've compromised our security!"

Briefly pausing his fiery tirade to take a breath, he picked up a light tapping noise sounding from the stairwell. Brow raised in curiosity, though there was little difference between that and his expression of disdain, he walked forward slowly, wondering both what was causing this sound and why the tower guard was merely standing there, communicating neither vocally or with his pheromones. Lowering towards the ground, he was caught by surprise when three little finger-sized gray capsules rolled down the steps and into the chamber. He picked one up cautiously between two fingers and began to examine it slowly until he found a small crack that was beginning to form in its face. Soon after that, he watched as the tiny aperture continued to grow until finally the capsule's outer shell exploded without warning into a dense cloud of smoke, the other two following in suit soon after. All in the room erupted into a chorus of coughs and hacks as the smoke was taken into their respiratory systems and began to force them down towards the ground. Over it all, a few seconds later, seven rapidly paced 'fmphfs' sounded, though only really heard by the one at its source, as more Hypnocane-laced darts cut their paths through the smoke and found their place in the necks of both the guards and the security specialists.

Naemi gave it nearly a minute before she made her grand entrance into the control center, waiting for the smoke capsules to dissipate and the Hypnocane to take effect in its target's systems.

"Thanks, love. Ya've helped me out a lot, but I don't think it's gonna work out between you and me," the young woman quipped as she pushed the first dazed guard in the doorway out of her path.

Strutting nonchalantly into the chamber, she removed a small thermal-imaging eyepiece from over her right eye and placed it back into a compartment in her belt before looking around at the various beings in their semi-hypnotic states, oddly positioned near the floor from when they had tried to escape the smoke cloud. With a swift motion, she pushed Technician 003 out of his seat, jokingly apologizing as she did with a slight smirk on her masked face before she went to work at the security console.

"Well, it seems they had just discovered my handiwork over at the landing field. Good timing, I must say."

Fingers flying across the control keys, she exited the current program and went about her work making some timely 'adjustments' to the estate's current security protocols. First to go was the security sensors across Memm's villa, then all the door locks within the building were to be released, the villa's communications hub was to be disabled, the Guardian droid programs were to be shut down, and finally the lifttube pavilion on the other side of the estate was to be reactivated, after having been shut down for the night, to allow for a quick escape. One by one, each of her commands was executed, completion signaled by a small green dot which appeared beside the lines of aurabesh writing on the screen. With all of this done, it was finally safe for her to move around, with only more guards and the villa's staff to worry about now. Logging out of the workstation as soon as she finished, Naemi made her way to doorway which sat nearly on the wall opposite where she had entered in and opened it cautiously in case anyone was hanging around.

However, when she poked her head through the door to spy out the area, the last place she figured she'd be wandering into… was the kitchen. _What kind of…idiot… connects his security hub to the kitchen!? You'd think maybe his office or the gallery, but what the heck? _ Shaking her head, she made her way inside and casually across the black and white checkered tile, taking in her surroundings. The walls were lined with cabinet and countertops, as would be expected, with the usual amenities and appliances around and upon them. In the middle of the room was a utility island of the same make as the wall-lined counters, while in the far left corner it almost looked like a small office had been set up. Another peculiarity to add to the list. She walked over and began looking over the contents of what was on the desktop: administrative papers, rosters, daily timetables, and the like. This must have been the work place of Memm's steward or administrative assistant. _An office in the kitchen. Makes the guy sound like an Ortolan or something._

Sorting through what she found, Naemi's ears perked as she heard the sound of whistling coming ever closer from behind one of three doorways in the room, this one on the adjacent wall from where she had come in. The young Zeltron looked about frantically, laying the sheets back down on the desk as close as to the way she found them as she could and then stepped about in place trying to decide what to do now. The kitchen's third door was right next to where she currently was, but there didn't seem to be enough time for her to make it through and for the door to close behind her before whoever was approaching would arrive, then alerting them to her presence. Time was quickly ticking away as the whistling drew ever closer, so, with no other ideas coming to mind, she dove down underneath the desk and hid within the confines of the leg space there with only seconds to spare before the doorway finally slid open and the whistling being entered into the kitchen.

The sound of the footsteps that accompanied the whistling one sounded light as they moved across the tiles, giving her the clue that the being wasn't very large in size and most definitely not one of the guards. Listening intently, she reached out and hugged her legs closer to her body when she noticed that the sound of the footsteps was coming towards the desk. Before she could react, as if there was anything she could really do, the opening out from under the desk was blocked in one flowing motion by a simple robe of varying shades of red and two dark brown loafers. Above her, she heard the sound of shuffling items as the being sorted through the desktop's contents.

"My my my," the man mumbled to himself in Duroese as he went about doing whatever it was he was doing. "I really should have organized my things before I went to bed last night. What a mess. Master Memm would be most displeased if he saw this."

At least five minutes elapsed as he went about his work there, two or three times an elongated blue hand reached under the desk, much to Naemi's fright, as he reached to open a drawer directly above her and slipped some flimsiplast sheets and a writing stylus inside. As soon as he had finished there, he went on moved across to the other side of the kitchen with shuffling footsteps. Leaning her head against the cold metal underside of the desk, she listened carefully as she heard the opening and closing of cupboard doors and the light beeping of a datapad. The seconds, and then the minutes, ticked away in her mind as the sounds' repetition continued on its route around the room, distancing and then coming back ever closer until, in one marvelous moment, there was no more slamming cupboard doors and all beeping stopped.

"Well, inventory's done," the Duros remarked to himself as one of the doorways hissed open and his footsteps began to grow ever more distant as they seemed to disappear from whence they came. Her heart danced with joy that perhaps now she was finally able to leave her cold metal confines and move freely once. In fact, in her quiet elation, she even slowly began to remove herself from her hiding place even before she could hear the door close once again. Looking up and over the top of the desk at an awkward angle as she rose, her eyes widened in horror as she saw the Duros steward merely standing in the doorway, though thankfully with his back to her. Probably faster than she had the first time, she dove back under the desk and began to listen again carefully for any noises.

"Well, I am feeling kinda peckish, and breakfast is still a few hours away… Perhaps I'll fix myself a little bit of a snack before I move on with my morning rounds."

Naemi let her head fall backwards in exasperation as heard his footsteps returned into the kitchen once more, one of the cupboard doors creaking open soon after. All she could do now was sit there quietly and sigh, the distinct feeling now growing in the back of her mind that she was going to be stuck there for some time still.

* * *

Peace and Security. That was the ultimate goal of their work. That was what they were hired for, and whatever was necessary for them to fulfill their mission, they would do it.

Her name was Chyvalle. She was the stalwart head of the small gathering of Weequay from their clan which had left their homeworld to enter the employ of the Nimbanel noble, Gallo Memm. By way of choice breeding and the superiority of their lineage from amongst others of their species, the members of her clan were naturally endowed as warriors. This was the reason they alone were chosen, and even then not every member of their group was allowed to leave Sriluur. Only the strongest, the bravest; those trained from birth in the ways of war and of their great god, Quay. These two things were what ultimately defined their lives. She, however, was the only female amongst those of the clan on Memm's estate, the only offspring of the head of their family and as capable a warrior as any of their men. It was not her special place at the head of the clan which brought her the loyalty of their warriors, but the honor and the skill with which she led and with which she held herself to. It was these things alone that allowed her now to lead the Weequay warriors on Vaynai and become the head of security for the entire island estate. Likewise unique to her was her name, but not just _her_ name…._any_ name, period. Amongst their own, the Weequay did not use names, only referring to each other by Weequay, but amongst the offworlders, her species had been known to take individual monikers. Thus, as head of their group and unofficial liason between their clan and Gallo Memm, she chose for herself a name to set herself apart and at the same time make her presence more natural amongst the other sentients on Vaynai.

With everything secured in the guest suites and receiving a positive report from her men in the villa's enclosed courtyard, she proceeded on through the next door out from there and continued her route now into the adjacent lounge. It was her policy to personally check each and every room within the building every other hour to ensure that the everything remained as it should be: Secure and Peaceful. Because of her employer's large collection of art and rare artifacts, the island villa was regularly plagued by would-be thieves who would attempt to make a piece of the Nimbanel's wealth their own. Time after time, though, each one was been apprehended. Her record was impeccable. It was even rumored amongst those that dwelled on Streysel Island that she had a form of foresight and an uncanny ability to show up just as criminals were attempting to break into the estate. For the most part, or at least as far as the supposed 'mystical' aspect of it was concerned, the story was false. There was no magic involved in her ability to find and bring these thieves to justice, only her finely tuned patrol plan and her own superior skills.

However, despite the falsehood of these claims, she said nothing to the contrary, hoping these wild tales would work to dissuade some poor fool or another who might attempt a break-in.

Chyvalle moved methodically around the lounge, checking in and around every plant and piece of furniture for any who might have attempted to hide within, but found no one. She nodded to herself slowly, affirming that everything was right within the room, when a small repeated beeping from her hip reached her ears. Glancing down to the small box which sat perched there on her belt, she noticed the small red light, one of two lights on the security monitor, was flashing. Her brow furrowed heavily and her eyes narrowed at the sight as she reached down and snatched up a small comm. which was lodged in the side of the monitor.

"Captain Chyvalle to Control Center. Control Center, do you read me?"

No response came as she released the call button, only static. As odd as it was, she tried to justify it in her mind as simple interference and attempted to contact the Control Center again, but still there was nothing. Her already wrinkled face distorted more as disgust swept over her and she stormed out of the lounge towards the villa's hub, going first through the gallery to make sure that its prized contents were still safe. Something was direly amiss, but once it was found, she would make sure it was promptly rectified.

Above all else, Peace and Security had to be maintained.

* * *

With what was now becoming characteristic of her current situation, a deep, unheard sigh slid forth with abjection from mouth. Her entire body was rife with both anxiety and slight depression because of her current state and the fact that the success or failure of her mission relied now upon a cheap metal desk. Squirming slightly to try and make herself comfortable, Naemi rested her head upon her knees and closed her eyes as she listened to the soppy, almost unbearable sounds of chewing and gulping on the other side of the room. _Alright, I had been having fun here before, _Naemi lamented inwardly, _but now I just wish he would finish up snack time so I can go on and get this job over with. This is becoming too much. To think, with all I've had to encounter in my career, one of my biggest challenges now is a blasted Duros with the _MUNCHIES!

Quieting her mind, she sat there and continued to listen the sounds around her, trying to form a picture of the room with her imagination. The Duros' chewing, the hum of light fixtures and various machinery, and… footsteps? They didn't belong to the current resident within the kitchen, of course, since they seemed to emanate from behind the door closest to her. Besides that, they sounded as though they belonged to someone much larger than the Duros, judging from how heavily they touched down upon the tiling. Within seconds, the door from which she could hear the steps behind hissed open and the being, whoever it was, stomped its way into the kitchen.

It was obvious that this person was _not_ happy.

"Havaal!" the voice, deep, strong and yet possessing a somewhat feminine quality, bellowed out. "What's the situation?"

The was a very audible gulp at that point, though whether from swallowing food or from fear she was not sure. "Wh…what? What is the problem, Captain Chyvalle?"

"Don't tell me you don't…" She sighed. "I've been trying to get ahold of the Control Center, but there's not response. My status monitor here is reporting that the security system is down and all of the door locks are open."

"You mean we have a…" Before the Duros could finish, the footsteps began again, followed quickly by a shrill 'eep', the sound of something rather light dropping upon a plate and the screeching of boot soles upon the tile, as the two made their way across the kitchen and disappeared behind the door Naemi knew led to the Control Center. Things were getting way out of hand, but she still had a small window of opportunity if she acted quickly. However, that window had just now open and was quickly closing down upon her.

Stepping lightly upon the balls of her feet as she remained in a crouch, the Zeltron nimbly stalked out from underneath the desk. Then, as soon as she cleared it, she leaned her weight forward, leapt and rolled through the door directly to her right, hoping that, if any luck remained, there wouldn't be a squad of Weequay guards waiting for her on the other side. Within an instant, the entryway hissed open and closed, allowing her quick entry into….wherever she was.

The air was much chiller here and she could hear air conditioning units running above her head. Slowly, timidly, opening her eyes, her heart skipped a beat and her mouth almost began to salivate as her eyes took in the glory of what was Gallo Memm's personal gallery. She had made it, _at last!_

Through the intermittent beams of moonlight that gleamed through the line of windows on the outer wall of the gallery she was able to make out the room in relative, yet glorious, detail. To her immediate left, a dining table of immense size, lined on each side by a row of exquisitely carved and upholstered wood chairs, while on the opposite side of the room, farthest from her, a plush leather furniture set, all gathered in a circle around what looked like a holographic projector rising from the floor. Apparently old Memm used this chamber as an entertaining hall to show off his priceless collection to his guests. All of this, though, she didn't care about… it was what was between and around these two sets of furniture that counted. Sitting carefully upon a gleaming varnished, greel-wood paraquet floor, transparisteel cabinets containing various artistic and archaeological treasures sat on display in carefully chosen spots, and lining all areas of the walls were tapestries, paintings, decorative items and more, only some of them behind transparisteel cases themselves but all under the bright glow of spotlight. The Kooroo Sundial, Gusepp's Hand, the Prophecy of Vaal, the Bust of Canivarz and the Felenar armor, the item that until recently had been the possession most prized by the Nimbanel. She saw them all there and all were so wonderfully tempting… that is, until she saw her true prize, the usurper of the Felenar armor, Gallo Memm's newest acquisition, the Scroll of Infinite Enlightenment. As was to be expected, the scroll was protected by a thick layer of transparisteel at its spot on the wall directly behind the leather furniture set. Finally, it was almost hers!

Like a child running to receive a birthday gift, Naemi threw caution to the wind and sprinted across the gallery, weaving around display cases and leaping over two couches to land in the meter and a half space in front of the scroll. Retracting and flexing the fingers of her outstretched hands, she studied the tattered hide parchment and the various symbols, lines and scribbles of alien language. _So this thing is supposed to be a source of infinite enlightenment? These must be the same type of loons that would believe in that ever-present 'life force' that fills the galaxy. But hey, who cares about dogma…this thing's gonna bring me a pretty penny._

With her thumb and index finger pressed together firmly, she ignited the beam emitter in her index finger once more and reached up to the scroll's protective casing and forced the laser beam slowly through the transparent material. After a few seconds, when finally the transparisteel was punctured, she began to drag her finger down the left side of the casing's face, attempting to cut it away. By the time she reached the bottom left corner of the casing, something odd occurred… the spotlights over the various pieces on the walls went off. In relative darkness, Naemi glanced around, body tensing as she looked to see if someone had discovered her, but once she realized that she was still alone, she shrugged it off to just a bug in the system or a timed switch that activated as morning approached and returned to work.

However, whatever sense of relaxation that might have come over her quickly dissipated as _all_ of the lights within gallery quickly flashed on and a blaring siren shattered the silence of the night.

"What in blazes!? I shut off the security system!" the Zeltron shouted at the top of her lungs, as if trying to convince the siren of that fact. "I shut it off!"

Promptly shutting off her beam emitter, she covered her ears to try and drown out that murderously painful noise before trying to gather her thoughts and decide how to escape out without being seen, despite the hubbub. Perhaps she could have made a sprint towards the door closest to her, or perhaps she could throw a chair through one of the windows and escaped that way. If only the durasteel shields had not come down over them and sealed the room tight. Of course, even if they had not come down, there would have been little time to do that, or anything for that matter, as the floor dropped out from beneath her feet to reveal a deep pit below…a pit filled with the snapping jaws and the echoing snarls of ravenous beasts. As she dropped down through the air, Naemi stretched out both arms and legs as quickly as she could and braced herself against the stone walls of the pit, her body jolting at the sudden stop. It was then, as she glanced down, that she caught her first glimpse of the group of six-legged reptilian Nashtahs directly below, salivating as they sought to have a bite of Zeltron.

Beads of sweat rolled down her face and the hot breath of the Nashtahs bit at her face as their jaws attempted to do the same as she continued to force her limbs against the pit's four walls.

"There….is no way…. I am going out…..like THIS!"

Gritting her teeth, she started to shift up slowly with her right arm and leg before bringing her left side up to the same level. Inch by inch, she continued this repetition and slowly began to ascend from the depths, all the while keeping her eyes of the predators below and arching her midsection reflexively when she thought they leapt too close. It wasn't a quick escape she was attempting; simply the only way she could figure out of her current jam without plummeting to her demise. Capture she might be able to deal with, she had done so before, but death was something she didn't yet wish to add to her plans. One of these two options, though, came much sooner than she was expecting… or hoping.

As she continued her upward shift, something unseen latched onto the back of her belt and her entire body was pulled violently from her confines. Instinctively she began to flail her limbs looking, from something to grasp onto, and let out a frightened yelp until she found herself dangling in the grip of and staring face to face with one of the estate's Weequay guards. With a grim expression etched into his features, he proceeded to reach up and rip the dark gray mask from her face violently. Naemi locked gazes with the brute and flashed a flirtatious grin in the hopes of disarming him, all the while reaching down and pressing down on a buttom on the back of her belt buckle, "Well, thank you ever so much for the rescue, handsome, but this really isn't any way to pick up women."

"I'll assure, Miss," came a gruff voice from the kitchen doorway, "that wasn't a rescue. It was an apprehension. Also, do not think you can so easily sway my men with a pretty face. They are not so weak as that."

Glancing over to where she had heard the voice emanate, she saw a contingent of five similar Weequay guards enter the room, blaster carbines brandished proudly, being led by a female of more slight, yet still powerful, build, and the same red-robed Duros steward she had seen earlier in the kitchen.

"I see someone hasn't been introduced to our friend sarcasm." With hard footfalls, the Weequay woman marched over, sneered, and without a word slapped Naemi with such force that it felt as if her entire lower jaw had just been sent flying across the room. Despite this, as a small trickle of blood began to ooze from the corner of her mouth, she attempted to grin, a sign of defiance against her captor. "Was it…something I said?"

"Silence your mouth, wench," Chyvalle spat with contempt as she balled up her right hand into a fist. "You have some gall to attempt to break into this estate."

"Well…it's what…I do…"

The Captain of the Guard smiled most unexpectantly at this statement, an expression with sent a brief chill down the young Zeltron's neck. "Though it would seem not very well. Even if you hadn't have set off the alarm, it wouldn't have taken me very long to find you since you were kind enough to leave me a trail." Naemi looked puzzled at this, but was quickly enlightened as Chyvalle took her hand and jabbed her right side, sending a wave of intense, burning pain through her body, moreso than should have come from the simple movement the Weequay had done. When the hand had retracted from her side, it soon was placed directly in front of her face, all of its fingers held out stiff and coated in fresh blood. "Apparently somewhere along the line you injured yourself unknowingly and, as you moved, you left droplets of blood along your path. From the guard tower, through the control center and kitchen, and all the way here… it would have been quite easy to track you."

_Those blasted Guardian Droids! They must have gotten me after all, but I was too focused on the task at hand to really take notice of it._

"Rest assured, though, Zeltron, for your fate does not rest in my hands just yet. Be thankful. Your final fate will be decided by Lord Memm himself, who should be arriving soon. Let us just hope he is feeling generous this evening." Glancing over to the guard who continued to hold Naemi in his grasp, Chyvalle motioned forward with her head, who acknowledged her silent command with a solemn nod. He reached down and unclasped the silver belt suddenly from around her waist, which sent the thief to the ground with a loud thud. With a slight moan, she reached up and rubbed her head as she laid upon the ground, but was quickly hoisted up to her feet by the same large hands and had her own hands pulled back and held at the small of her back.

The alarms having been switched off upon the arrival of the Captain and her guards into the gallery, the group stood in silence, save for Naemi's tired, labored breathing, and waited patiently for the arrival of the oft spoken of 'lord' of the island estate. In the distance, though, down a nearby corridor, she could hear them… a group of footsteps drawing ever closer from across the villa.

Then, with a build-up and release of tension as great as if a full processional greeted his arrival, two rows of three Weequay marched in through the door to their right, took positions on both sides of the doorway, and held up their carbines at attention as the figure of the Nimbanel, Gallo Memm, was finally revealed.

Naemi looked the man up and down as he strode into the gallery, the tan-skinned humanoid reptile adjusting his slate and navy blue business jacket with its brass ornaments and straightened the tuffs of gray cheek hair on both sides of his seal-like face after having been so abruptly awoken. It was obvious that this being had something to prove to those around him in having to make himself appear as pristine as possible at such an early hour in the morning. In all honesty, though, she doubted his employees really cared what condition he was in, appearance-wise. As long as he was still paying them, he could be a gizka in a rat hair poncho and those around him would still kiss his feet as if he were the Emperor.

"Oh Master Memm, how wonderful to see you!" the red-robed Duros steward groveled, running up from amongst the crowd and bowing continuously before his employer with hands clasped together in front of him. "I do hope your sleep until now has been most enjoyable and…"

An upheld hand stopped the steward in mid-sentence as Memm then proceeded to place the hand on the Duros shoulder and gently pushed him out of his way. "Not now, Havaal. You can prattle off pleasantries later, but there are more serious matter to contend with at the moment." Taking a few steps past Havaal, he turned towards Chyvalle and nodded solemnly to her before finally noticing the young Zeltron thief in the grasp of one of the guards.

"Is this our culprit tonight, Captain?" he asked quite casually, locking eyes with his security chief.

"This is indeed the whelp, Lord Memm."

Eyes narrowed, the Nimbanel grasped Naemi's chin in two elongated fingers and closely examined her face closely, as if examining a jewel. "Hmm…yes. Well then, this is indeed a refreshing change to have an attractive young woman 'visit' my home, and a Zeltron at that. The last female Zeltron thief I had heard of was Vianna D'pow, and she operated mostly in the heyday of the Republic. Quite a reputation that one had. They say she even broke into the Jedi Temple once. Now then, let's see what damaged was done…" At his unspoken request, Chyvalle reached to her side and handed a small datapad to Memm. Squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light, he read over the list and nodded slowly, an accompanying 'hmm' sounding with each item he read. "Impersonating a temple pilgrim, disabling two Guardian Droids, drugging a host of our guards, disarming the security system, and damaging the holding case for the Scroll of Infinite Enlightenment. My my, you've made quite the attempt. No one's gotten this far in quite a while. My congratulations on a job well done, my dear young miss."

Naemi grinned wryly, cracking the small bit of blood that had dried there. "It's always a pleasure. You offer such nice prizes to your winners…it's hard to resist, _my dear lord Memm._"

"Ahhh, and a sense of humor, too!" His face at first seemed quite jovial as his beady black eye stared down into her own, but those kind features soon faded as a biting tone took to his voice. "However, do not push my good nature with smart aleck comments, _thief._" Clasping his hands behind his back, Memm wandered over to the scroll and ran two fingers over its casing. "You damaged this with some kind of beam cutter. How did you manage to smuggle one in past the sensors? I've made personally sure that they're the most precise, accurate sensors possible. What IS your secret?"

"I collected the thief's belt upon her capture, Lord Memm," chimed in Chyvalle with her ever brusk tone. "I believe the secrets will be found within it."

"Hmmm? Yes, good. Search and scan it as soon as possible. Did you check her for any other equipment or hidden compartments?" He spun around from the display case and returned to where Naemi was being held, looking her quickly up and down. "Her gloves and her boots. Remove them too."

A guard at Chyvalle's side clacked his boots together as he stood at attention, acknowledging these new orders, and then worked with the guard that held the girl to remove these articles off of her person. Naemi, though she could have tried, decided not to resist, but silently mourned as she watched her prized equipment taken from her.

"Well then, miss, it would seem we have come to a crossroads. What shall we do _with you?_"

"Something pleasant, I hope."

The Nimbanel noble chuckled under his breath. "Well, it all depends on how you answer me." Placing one finger under her jaw lightly, Memm lifted the Zeltron's head so that the two of them were eye to eye once more. "As I said before, I applaud your efforts for making it this far into my villa. It takes a truly industrious being to do perform such a feet, and I admire that. It has been our goal here to continually refine our defenses to keep out such people as yourself. This job will never be complete, as there will always be a new hole or new technology that will be able to get someone up past our guards."

As he made that last comment, Chyvalle's face tightened. The Weequay captain tried to keep any emotion from her face, but Naemi could tell that a nerve had been struck.

"With this in mind, my dear young Zeltron, I make you this offer. Come aboard and join our security staff full time. Let me put your ingenuity to work to help keep my estate safe. You will be generously paid, and the benefits will be great, as my other employees will tell you. So then, what will your answer be?"

This was her chance. If there was any opportunity for escape, Naemi knew, she had to make use of this jewel of an opportunity.

Staring deeply into the eyes of Gallo Memm, she let a sweet smile spread across her face as she did what she could to try and release pheromones into the air without it being overly obvious to the Weequay. If she went too quickly with releasing them or released too much, she was afraid they would be able to detect it since they were able to communicate via pheromones themselves. Though she wasn't as experienced with her 'Zeltron charms' as were those raised on her homeworld, she did manage to learn a few tricks. Even so, she was going to have to work with a greater sense of accuracy if this was to work.

"After all that I have done, you would still offer me such a generous offer? My…I….I cannot believe how truly generous you are, Lord Memm. Your security system is indeed impressive, truly, and to be able to help you to make it even greater….well, how could I protest? I always relish a challenge."

Memm smirked. "Yes, I'm sure. Now then, to get you started, we will have to…"

"Lord Memm, I must object!" Bounding forward, Chyvalle made her way past the guards and took a place between he and Naemi. "This woman cannot be trusted! I'm sure she's only using this situation to her advantage. As soon as your back is turned, she will betray you. You can't….."

"That will be all, Captain Chyvalle!" he growled, pushing her out of his way. "My judgments are my own and I don't expect you to contradict me."

The captain of the guard was visibly enraged, but she was exhibiting an exorbitant amount of control. Naemi had to admire her for that.

Feeling the grip from the guard holding her hands behind her back loosen, she shook herself free and strode over to Memm. Chyvalle again opened her mouth to protest, but the Nimbanel held up a hand to silence her before she said anything else and turned his attention back to the approaching Zeltron, a sappy smile forming across his face. It seemed her plan was working.

"Now, my great Lord Memm, before we get down to business, there is something I must know."

"Anything," he chirped.

"Alright. Let's see…When I entered the villa earlier, I had made sure to disable the security system before continuing on, and yet still something was triggered when I attempted to cut through the scroll's case. What is your trick? What did I miss?" With her ungloved hand, she stroked her hand across the noble's face, twirling some of his cheek hair between her fingers while her voice taking a lower, more seductive tone. "If I am to help keep you safe, I must know your secrets."

Memm's countenance seemed to relax and his body slacked ever so slight as he began to give a bemused chuckle. "Oh, that's easy. There's a secondary security system that my I have wired into the displays of my greatest treasures to make sure they are protected even _if_ the main system is down. The controls for it are in my office and only Chyvalle and I have access to it."

Naemi pulled herself from Memm and bit her lower lip. "A secondary system. Figures."

"Yes, that gets people every time. It's really been a blessing since we had that installed."

"I imagine so."

"Now then, my dear young miss, let's go ahead and get you registered in the database so we can…"

"Yeah, about that…" The Zeltron thief leered around towards Gallo Memm, a mischievous look upon her face as she roundhouse kicked the guard to her right in the chin before spinning around and side-kicking his companion in the chest. "I've changed my mind. I'm afraid I'm just not the right girl for a desk job. Sorry, Memmy."

Jumping over the body of one of the fallen guards, she dove and rolled underneath Chyvalle as she attempted a tackle, and then began to sprint for the door.

"Grr…blast it all! I told you all the wench couldn't be trusted! Somebody, stun her!"

At the Captain's command, those guards who had accompanied Gallo in, waking from their daze, as were the others, raised there weapons and began to open fire. With graceful steps, Naemi managed to slide around the incoming blasts, coming within a hand's reach to the entryway towards the kitchen when she seemed to lose control of her legs. Before she could react, what felt like a surge of electricity sped through her body until her motor functions were no longer hers to control. It was almost as if time had begun to slow as she fell through the air, hand outstretched, almost pleading to take hold of the door and the world around her began to fade to black. As all consciousness began to slip away, she managed to make out the last bits of conversation happening behind her.

"What shall be done with her, Lord Memm?"

"I tried to reason with her, but reason will not work with some people. Do with her as you so desire, Captain Chyvalle."


	5. Chapter 5

The sea breeze was wonderfully warm against her skin after the chill of the gallery's air conditioning system. She would have stayed there for quite a while longer if she could and just let her sore body relax, letting herself heal from her ordeal. The truth of the situation was still unclear to her groggy mind, veiled in darkness, though not for much longer.

Fluttering lightly, Naemi's eyelids slowly lifted and she once more returned to the waking world. It pained her at first, as the morning sun's light pierced her eyes, causing her to squint and wrinkle her face, but as she adjusted and focus returned to her, she surveyed her surroundings with still sluggish movements.

Utility skiffs circled the area on patrol, packed to the brim with carbine-wielding Weequay guards, there to make sure that there was no outside interference or escape, while on a similar craft, floating silently just a few meters away towards the villa, Memm, Havaal, Chyvalle, and several more guards watched with anticipation. She herself had awaken in mid-stride, her formerly unconscious body being half-carried by one of the guards by her manacled hands behind her back. With swift steps, Naemi, her 'escorts' and three Guardian droids made their way up a short flight of steps onto a small landing platform that retracted from a hidden compartment in the cliff-side and took up a position just a hair's breadth from its the edge towards the water. Glancing downwards, past the sheers cliff and artificial structures that jutted out from the island, Naemi's gaze fell upon the sharp rocks and debris rising up from the sea's white foam and violent waves.

_This…this can't be the end. There's too much left to do in my life. It won't let things end like this. Though my other contingencies seem to have failed, there must_ still_ be a way out of this._

Her guard yanked up on her arms and pulled her into a fully standing position as she was forcibly turned around to face Gallo's skiff one last time. His expression was quite terse, but she was frightened at the sight of a sadistic smile that seemed to spread across Chyvalle's face as they locked eyes.

"I offered you freedom," the Nimbanel yelled, his voice somewhat drawn, "and yet by your actions you have chosen this fate before you now! Do you have any last words!?"

The young Zeltron still managed to smirk as she called out in response, "Only that I should have been allowed to wash my hands after touching _your_ grimy face!"

Anger simmered upon Memm's countenance as he wrung his hands together in front of chest, though he did do his best to suppress these feelings, at least visibly. With a wave of his boney, elongated hand, he motioned for the guard to spin her back around towards the sea. "Do not view me as a villain for it was you who committed the crime, girl! Think upon your actions and the results now in these last few seconds, before you join those who have come before you!"

The tenseness of the situation was palpable as the entire group stood there, still and silent. Even the skiffs on patrol had stopped in there transits to watch the proceedings. The sea breeze passed across the island estate once more, punctuating the scene with its light whistle, almost serving as a cue after nearly a minute of quiet that it was time to resume.

Each of the guards on the platform, droid and Weequay alike, lifted their vibro-axes and –pikes to the ready, preparing to force her over if she did not go willingly. Over the electronic hums of their weapons, Chyvalle's commanding voice rang out from the skiff. There almost seemed a bit of enjoyment in her tone.

"Send her over!"

Naemi once again felt the sting of a blade's edge touch the small of her back as they coaxed her forward. She let her eyes fall upon the abyss before her and the impossibility of the situation finally took hold.

_So, this really_ is _the end…_

Wrinkling her nose, she glanced over her shoulder and then back kicked her guard between the legs and watched as he staggered backward. "Back off you stooges! I'm not going to give any of you the delight of saying you killed me. If anyone is going to get me killed, it's gonna be me!"

On the balls of her feet, she spun around and gave a mocking bow before springing backwards over the side of the cliff. "See ya around, Memmy boy!"

No screams of pain or horror echoed out as the Zeltron thief plummeted to the jagged teeth of stone that rose from the crashing waves. The guards remained at the ready, caught off guard but her sudden performance and waiting just in case it had been some sort of ruse. After nearly half a minute passed, though, they made their way cautiously towards the edge to inspect the scene personally.

However, instead of the sight of the dashed Zeltron remains which they expected to be greeted with, the sudden arrival of a volley of fire from two turbolaser batteries caught them by surprised as a chorus of shrieks and screams rang out in the few seconds before the landing platform was obliterated.

The sound of charging engines filled the air as the visage of a gigantic Corellian Banshee bird, cast in metal, appeared in the form of a Banshee-class Heavy Transport, rising quickly from the edge of the cliff and kicking a stong wind about the area which nearly knocked Memm and his crew from their skiff. As it rose higher into the air, its lowered landing ramp came into a view, and on it, a Duros clad in blue and black and a gray-green LOM Protocol droid helping to hoist the still cuffed Naemi on-board.

"Sorry for the delay," Marikk quipped, a grin on his face as he tried to keep his volume higher than that of the _Sleight of Hand_'s engines. "We were trying to get here as quickly as possible without arousing the attention of local security. Thank goodness for those sensor dampeners you had installed on this ol' thing. We just had to fly fast and low along the sea to avoid any unwanted attention."

Fully secure now on the landing ramp, Naemi rubbed her sore wrists as Sev cut them loose with a fusion cutter. In glee, she grabbed onto the Duros mercenary, all the while keeping a serious expression on her face. "You know, you ruined my dramatic death scene for the audience! They're going to be sorely disappointed."

There was an exasperated smile upon Marikk's face as he rolled his eyes in response. "Yes, I'll try and keep that in mind next time I find you plummeting to your death. We can't upset the spectators, after all."

"Umm, I do hate to intrude on your and Master Marikk's nonsensical exchange, Mistress," Sev chimed in at last over the sound of blaster fire, "but I believe it would be time for a most hasty retreat."

Barking orders just managed to eek out over the sounds of the ship's engines as droids and guards hustled about and perimeter turrets, security officers and even Chyvalle herself opened fire at the _Sleight of Hand_. All the while, hoping to avoid detection, Memm and Havaal scurried away to hopefully find safety within the villa.

Both Marikk and Naemi exchanged glances as the ship rocked from incoming shots and the firing of their own weapons and snatched the comm out of Sev's hand as he was prattled descriptions of the situation to R2.

"Raise the ramp and get us out of here, Zee!" cried Naemi as the trio climbed their way back into the freighter.

With a slight groan, the landing ramp lifted back into its resting place, sealing the ship tight. The Estate's forces continued to press on with their assault, but there was no getting their shield or stopping their escape. It was but a moment before, as the _Hand_ shifted in its position through the air, it rocketed off into the distant morning sky. They had survived the assault on the estate of Gallo Memm and, for the most part, were still in one piece. Thank the stars.

* * *

The peace found within the confines of one's own ship was something that Naemi hadn't often considered, but, as she leaned there against the bulkhead in the escape pod bay and placed bacta patches onto her wounded side and back, the wonderful sound of silence was more soothing than any medicine. There weren't many jobs she failed to accomplish, and far fewer still than as badly as this one, but it was just another opportunity to learn and improve her skills. Yes, an opportunity to learn and…

"Ahhh, damn it," the Zeltron mumbled as she held up the tan night shirt she now wore and wrapped bandages around her waist to cover the patches. She didn't feel like prattling off the old 'live and learn' platitude people were so fond of saying after they had royally screwed something up. Right now, she didn't want to take the mature route. She'd gotten herself injured, she'd failed to get the scroll, and worst of all, her prized equipment was gone! What thief, especially one of her skill, gets her equipment stolen from her while she's trying to steal something of someone else's! "Now I'm gonna have to contact Kinahay and tell him the bad news."

"Well, look on the bright side. You _are_ still alive. That's gotta count for something."

Lowering her shirt over her makeshift medical treatment, she leaned her head back and tried to acknowledge Marikk's comment with a slight smile. At least he hadn't said "just take it as an opportunity to learn and improve your skills." Using her right foot to push herself off against the wall, Naemi floated across the chamber to wear the Duros stood, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed forward, gently kissing him. "Take this as my thanks for the rescue, Mare dear." A beguiling twinkle formed in her eyes as a smile on her rose lips joined it. "You were marvelously dashing as you stood there on the landing ramp, wind whipping around you as you faced down danger."

Marikk seemed slightly flustered at the sudden attention he was getting, yet still tried to keep a suave air about him. "Well, what can I say, it's all part of the job. The gallant hero saving the damsel in distress."

"We really need to get together more often. It's always so…exciting. Don't you agree, Mare?"

"Exciting's one word for it I guess, but next time, let's do something a little less life threatening. I hear the Sozzenels are performing on Nar Shaddaa later next month. Maybe we could check it out."

"A Jizz concert." The tone in her voice sounded less than enthused. "That sounds, um, great…"

"There a problem?"

"Not…really, Mare, no. It's just, well, I like bands like Deeply Religious, though with the ban on their music by the Imperials, it's hard to come by. Not something quite so tame, like Jizz music."

There was a brief silence between the two, though they still remained close to each other, before finally Marikk spoke up.

"I know this is out of the blue, Nae, but I thought I'd give it a shot and see what you'd said. What would you if I asked you to come with and join up with Marikk's Mercs? We could use your skill, and you know I wouldn't mind having you around more."

Naemi shifted them around just slightly, sighing and forcing a smile back onto her face. "As much as I'm flattered by the offer, this wouldn't happen to be another not-so-veiled

attempt at trying to get me to give up thieving, would it?"

There was no response, but with the coy look upon his blue visage, the answer was all too apparent. Reaching with one of her hands to a small panel behind his back, she opened the hatch on one of the escape pods and then started moving them both back until Marikk stumbled back over the edge of the walkway and fell down into its seat. Again, she sighed. "Mare dear, I'm sorry, but you can't change me and you can't get me to give up thieving. It's my life. It's what I am. Until the circumstances change and I can't go on with this life any longer, though I don't see that happening any time soon, I'll be remaining a thief. I'm sorry."

"I figured as much…"

"But hey, just because I turned down your offer doesn't mean we're not friends and we can't still go out together sometime." With an unseen hand, she reached up onto the wall and pressed down on the pod controls once more. From his slightly askew position down within it, Marikk glance up and watched her as she mouthed the words 'comm me some time' and blew him a kiss before jettisoning him from the _Sleight of Hand_.

Righting himself within the seat, he placed his hand on his brow and watched the ship shrink in the distance as he plummeted away and towards the Vaynai seas below. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked into expanse of stars. "Naemi Alto. The thief who stole my heart and robbed me of my sanity. I'll catch you one day."

* * *

The bridge of the newly repaired _Nova Hound_ was eerily quiet, save for the sporadic beeps and dull humming coming from the ship's systems. Each member of the crew sat at their stations, looking as though they were hard at work, but all the while watching from the corners of their eyes as Captain Marikk wandered lackadaisically onto the bridge and flopped down into his chair. Each of them wondered what exactly had happened over the few hours while he was gone. He had left the ship in high spirits the night before for a dinner date, and then the next morning he had to comm. them for pick-up because he was stuck in an escape pod drifting in the middle of the ocean. The rescue, however, had to be regrettably delayed to late in the afternoon as the finishing touches on the ship's repairs were finished by Dorm, Leda and Mr. Kibo's crew, leading to an even more sullen Duros. Wild rumors and theories found itself into their conversation as they went to intercept him, but they did not dare voice them in front of him, more out of respect than any fear they might have. While he might try to act like a ladies' man, he was not the type to try anything outright lecherous. What had happened was a mystery to them, though they knew that once the Captain pulled himself up out of his funk, they'd find out the truth.

Spinning his chair around towards the bridge corridor, the listless Captain Marikk, sprawled out there, pointed back with one long blue finger towards their resident Rodian communications officer. "Crae, see if you can contact Onoron Fil'vye's office so we can get this job of his underway."

"On it."

Marikk listened carefully as the sound of conversation between his crewman and who he assumed was the Bothan's secretary, perhaps even Mr. Zahn, filled the air. It continued on for a short period as the two spoke back and forth in what sounded a rather genial exchange before Craeldo called out again. "I've got a direct connection to Mr. Fil'vye on the main screen, Cap'n."

With a quick shuffle of his feet, the Captain's chair spun back to its original position as Marikk corrected his posture, going from sulking to all business in less than a second, and gave a warm smile as looked up at the Bothan executive's image one the display screen above the ship's navigational controls. The expression on Fil'vye's face, however, was anything but welcoming, and the tone of his voice and the manner in which he spoke was all the proof needed that something was amiss.

"_Ahhh, uh…Captain Danar. What a…pleasure … to speak with you again."_

"Yes, indeed. Good Morning, sir!" The tone of Marikk's voice took a complete one hundred-eighty degree turn from his earlier somber spirit. "Our ship is repaired and ready to go! If you'll just transmit to us the coordinates of the docking platform you'd like us to land at, we're more than ready to enter your employ, my good sir."

"_Yes…about that,"_ Fil'vye dragged out his voice a bit as he clasped his hands up in front of his face, leaned back in his chair, and stared back at the Duros with steely eyes. _"I'm afraid the aforementioned job offer is rescinded."_

Marikk's jaw dropped slightly and his eyes widened as he took in the Bothan's words and tried to formulate a coherent response. "Bu…wha….but why, sir? What happened?"

"_So it would seem, Captain Danar, there was another break in at the estate of Gallo Memm last night. His guards reported a Duros dressed in blue and black aiding in the escape of the culprit, while security holos at a landing pad where a ship matching the description of the one that assaulted his villa show you, or if not you then your twin, arriving there late yesterday evening. While I'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt, Marikk, I simply can't let word get out that my company employs people of with a… less than sparkling record. I'm sure you understand. Perhaps we can work together in the future after all of this blows over, but until then, good day."_

And with that, the screen flashed black.

"Of all the…. I can't believe it…"

From his station, Abras looked back over his shoulder and watched as an incredulous expression quickly spread across Marikk's face. "So, what now, Captain?"

Face in his hands, the Duros mercenary let out a deep sigh and went to work quickly at the ship's controls, pulling them out of orbit and punching in a new set of hyperspace coordinates. "Not a clue. All I know is I just want out of here…_now_. To get us as far away as possible."

The next to speak up was Sillek, though he didn't bother to turn around from his station but merely spoke in a tone of voice much like that of a parent questioning a child who they suspected had been up to no good. "So, what exactly happened last…"

Marikk's response was quick, cutting off the elder swordsman before he could even finish phrasing his thought as the ship leapt off into the void, towards parts unknown. As they had figured earlier, the Captain would fill them in eventually on what had happened, his words were notice enough to the crew that that 'eventually' might not be for a long time to come.

"I _don't_ want to talk about."


End file.
